HELPS  TO  THE  READING 


CLASSICAL  LATIN 


POETRY 


RICHARDSON 


NEX 


C 


HELPS  TO  THE  READING  OF 

CLASSICAL  LATIN 

POETRY 


BY 
LEON  JOSIAH  EICHARDSON 


Cantantes  licet  usque  —  minus  via  laedit  —  eamus 


GINN  &  COMPANY 

BOSTON  •  NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •  LONDON 


COPYRIGHT,  1907,  nv 
LEON  JOSIAH  RICHARDSON 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

77.1 


GINN   &   COMPANY  •  PRO- 
PRIETORS  .  BOSTON  •  U.S.A. 


And  when  we  have  learned  by  long  familiarity  to  read  between 
the  lines,  to  apportion  the  emphasis,  to  reproduce,  it  may  be,  in 
imagination  some  shadow  of  that  "marvelous  witchery"  with 
which,  as  tradition  tells  us,  Vergil's  own  reading  of  his  poems 
brought  out  their  beauty,  we  shall  be  surprised  at  the  amount 
of  self -revelation  discernible  beneath  the  calm  of  his  impersonal 
song.  F.  W.  H.  MYERS. 


2026862 


That  the  vox  viva  has  a  vital  part  to  play  in  the  study 
of  language,  seems  to  call  for  little  argument.  The  one  is 
closely  bound  up  in  the  other.  In  numberless  ways  sound 
is  accommodated  to  sense ;  and  this  holds  true  alike  of 
ancient  and  modern  tongues.  Moreover,  the  literatures 
of  the  Greeks  and  Eomans  have  always  been  regarded  as 
preeminently  human,  hence  called  the  "humanities,"  which 
accords  with  the  fact  that  they  are  permeated  with  ideas 
not  merely  well  suited  to  vocal  expression,  but  frequently 
such  as  can  be  fully  conveyed  only  by  means  of  the  liv- 
ing voice.  In  discussing  the  style  of  poets,  Cicero  went 
so  far  as  to  say  "  Nonnulli  eorum  voluptati  vocibus  magis 
quam  rebus  inserviunt"  (Orator,  xx,  68). 

The  following  pages  concern  the  student  of  the  Roman 
poets,  especially  Vergil  and  Ovid.  They  ami  to  promote 
modes  of  study  that  shall  react  favorably  upon  the  mother 
tongue,  that  shall  yield  good  training,  reasonable  command 
of  the  Latin  language,  and  some  well-founded  conceptions 
of  antiquity.  They  aim  to  make  it  clear  that  reading  (as 
opposed  to  the  "  puzzling  out "  method  of  study)  furnishes 
at  all  stages  the  true  key  to  sense,  and  that  without  such 
reading  one  will  fail  to  enter  into  the  full  comprehen- 
sion, as  well  as  the  highest  enjoyment,  of  the  poetry. 
The  principles  governing  Latin  metrical  composition  in 
the  Augustan  age  will  be  briefly  set  forth.  For  a  full 


vi  PREFACE 

treatment  of  the  subject  the  student  should  consult  such 
authorities  as  Sievers,  Corssen,  Lindsay,  Christ,  and  Gle- 
ditsch.  A  further  comparison  between  classical  aiid  English 
versification  may  be  found  hi  the  works  of  Mayor,  Omond, 
and  Saintsbury. 

Some  of  the  illustrative  material  used  in  this  book  lias 
been  drawn  from  W.  Christ,  Die  Metrik  fyr  Griechen  und 
Homer]  H.  W.  Johnston,  Metrical  Licen&s  of  Vergil]  the 
Allen  and  Greenough,  Hale  and  Buck,  pildersleeve  and 
Lodge,  and  Lane  Latin  grammars ;  the  Century  and  Standard 
dictionaries ;  and  an  article  by  the  author  "  On  the  Form 
of  Horace's  Lesser  Asclepiads,"  American  Journal  of  Phi- 
lology, xxii,  283.  The  words  Vergil,  rime,  and  meter,  when 
spelled  otherwise  in  quoted  passages,  have  been  brought 
into  line  with  the  usage  followed  in  this  book. 

For  aid  and  suggestion  acknowledgment  is  made  to 
Professor  Isaac  Flagg,  Professor  William  A.  Merrill,  Pro- 
fessor Edward  B.  Clapp,  and  Pro!.-  jor  Henry  W.  Prescott. 
Special  thanks  are  due  the  Reader  of  Messrs.  Ginn  and 
Company,  whose  cooperation  has  added  much  to  whatever 

merit  this  little  volume  may  possess. 

L.  ,T.  R. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

BERKELEY,  December,  1906 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

1 

PAGE 
INTRODUCTORY  TOHE  STUDY  OF  LATIN  POETRY      .       .       1 


RHYTHM  AS  CONCERNED  IN  THE  POET'S  ART       ...  4 

The  Nature  ^f  Rhythm 4 

The  Interlacing  Series  in  a  Poetic  Rhythm  ...  7 

Rhythm  and  Meter 8 

Kinds  of  Rhythm 9 

Auxiliary  Factors 10 

Relation  of  Rhythm  to  Ideas .19 

Direct  and  Indirect  Ways  of  Conveying  Thought       .  19 

Rhythm  an  Example  of  the  Latter 19 

RHYTHMICAL  ELEMENTS 22 

Syllables 22 

Feet 44 

Cola 46 

Verses 47 

Groups  of  Verses 50 

PART  II 

THE  DACTYLIC  HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER   .       .       .51 

PRACTICAL  HINTS  ON  READING  LATIN  POETRY   ...  62 

INDEX 65 

vii 


THE  READING  OF  CLASSICAL 
LATIN  POETRY 

PART  I.     GENERAL  PRINCIPLES 


INTRODUCTORY   TO   THE   STUDY   OF  LATIN 
POETRY 

Almost  every  thing  we  do  in  our  daily  lives  involves 
ways  and  methods  that  are  not  original  but  come  to  us 
as  the  accumulated  result  of  a  long  line  of  human  expe- 
rience. And  so  to  understand  fully  any  activity  one  must 
view  it  historically,  one  must  follow  it  through  the  various 
stages  of  its  development.  Speaking,  reading,  and  writing 
are  no  exceptions  to  this  rule.  And  since  the  three  enter  so 
largely  into  the  discipline  of  the  mind,  the  questions  are 
constantly  arising :  What  literatures  should  we  study  ?  How 
can  the  ancient  classics  be  treated  to  the  best  advantage  ? 

In  taking  up  Greek  or  Latin,  young  people  are  set  to 
learning  forms,  parsing,  translating,  and  the  like.  Such 
exercises  have  their  place,  and  indeed  are  important,  pro- 
vided they  be  looked  upon  as  a  means  to  an  end.  Too 
often,  however,  they  are  allowed  to  become  ends  in  them- 
selves, with  the  result  that  the  student  does  not  learn  to 
read  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  In  this  field,  as  else- 
where, a  great  deal  depends  upon  beginning  rightly. 

l 


2  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

The  Latin  student,  already  grounded  in  simple  prose 
and  now  approaching  the  poets,  should  hear  Latin  poetry 
read  in  large  masses  by  a  reader  competent  to  give  fair 
enunciation  and  expression;  and  then,  while  the  sounds 
are  still  ringing  in  his  ears,  he  should  read  for  himself. 
The  more  he  reads  aloud  the  better.  In  the  early  stairs 
of  practice  he  can  not  be  expected  to  understand  at  once 
all  he  hears,  nor  to  know  much  about  the  structure  of  the 
verse.  The  main  thing  at  this  period  is  to  form  riulit 
habits,  especially  the  habit  of  gathering  the  sense  from 
the  page  in  a  normal  way  —  not  by  rearranging  the  words, 
but  by  taking  them  into  the  mind  through  the  genuine 
process  of  "straight-ahead"  reading.  If  .he  perseveres  in 
hearing,  reading  aloud,  and  —  we  may  add  —  writing,  he 
will  soon  begin  to  take  a  Roman's  attitude  toward  the 
literature;  more  and  more  he  will  read  with  ease  and 
pleasure,  and  finally  the  poetry  will  reveal  its  true  mean- 
ing and  beauty. 

Professor  Shorey's  remark  on  the  part  played  by  (In- 
voice in  the  study  of  Horace's  Odes  may  be  applied 
widely : 

^Esthetic  criticism  of  Horace's  exquisite  metrical  art  can  If 
addressed  only  to  those  who  read  him  aloud  precisely  as  they  read 
English  poetry.  Such  students  will  observe  for  themselves  in 
their  favorite  passages  the  reenforcement  of  the  leading  thought 
by  the  emphasis  of  the  rhythm,  the  symmetrical  re<j>on>ioiis 
and  nice  interlockings  of  words  and  phrases,  the  dainty  Imt  not 
obtrusive  alliteration,  the  real  or  fancied  adaptation  of  sound 
to  sense  in  softly  musical,  splendidly  sonorous,  or  pirluiv^piely 
descriptive  lines.  This  kind  of  critic-ism  may  easily  pass  into 
the  fantastic.  It  is  better  suited  to  the  living  \oi,  .•  than  to  cold 
print. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  3 

To  read  Latin  poetry  in  this  spirit  is  not  a  simple  matter. 
Not  only  must  one  make  the  words  embody  the  properties 
that  would  belong  to  them  in  prose  —  correct  syllabic 
form,  quality  and  quantity  of  sound,  accent,  intonation, 
and  logical  grouping  —  but  one  must  also  utter  the 
words  with  a  feeling  for  the  rhythmical  series  which  they 
are  intended  to  suggest,  and  here  and  there  with  regard  to 
still  subtler  effects  of  sound.  For  the  complete  impression 
that  the  poet  seeks  to  convey  results  from  an  interplay 
among  all  these  elements. 

If  it  is  worth  while  to  study  ancient  literature  at  all,  it 
is  certainly  worth  while  to  enter  as  fully  as  possible  into 
its  spirit,  to  lay  hold  on  its  store  of  thought  and  feeling. 
Niebuhr  puts  the  matter  well  in  his  Letter  to  a  Young 
Philologist : 

Do  not  read  [ancient  authors]  in  order  to  make  aesthetic 
reflections  upon  them,  but  in  order  to  drink  in  their  spirit,  and 
to  fill  your  soul  with  their  thoughts.  —  in  order  to  gain  by 
the  reading  what  you  would  have  gained  by  reverently  listen- 
ing to  the  discourses  of  great  men.  This  is  the  philology  that 
does  the  soul  good  ;  and  learned  investigations,  even  when  we 
get  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  make  them,  always  occupy  an  inferior 
place.  Even  if  we  can  explain  the  most  difficult  passages  at 
sight,  all  this  is  nothing,  and  mere  sleight  of  hand,  if  we  do  not 
acquire  the  wisdom  and  spiritual  energy  of  the  great  men  of 
antiquity,  —  think  and  feel  like  them. 

Professor  Corson  says  :  * 

A  true  poem  is  a  piece  of  articulate  music  which  may  require 
to  be  long  practiced  upon  by  the  voice  before  all  its  possible 
significance  and  effectiveness  be  realized.  .  .  .  Reading  must  sup- 
ply all  the  deficiencies  of  written  or  printed  language.  It  must 

1  The  Voice  and  Spiritual  Education,  pages  29  and  63. 


4  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

give  life  to  the  letter.  How  comparatively  little  is  addressed  to 
the  eye,  in  print  or  manuscript,  of  what  has  to  be  addressed  to 
the  ear  by  a  reader !  There  are  no  indications  of  tone,  quality  of 
voice,  inflection,  pitch,  time,  or  any  other  of  the  vocal  functions 
demanded  for  a  full  intellectual  and  spiritual  interpretation.  A 
poem  is  not  truly  a  poem  until  it  is  voiced  by  an  accomplished 
reader  who  has  adequately  assimilated  it  —  in  whom  it  has,  to 
some  extent,  been  born  again,  according  to  his  individual  spiritual 
constitution  and  experiences. 

In  short,  one  must  first  understand  in  order  to  read 
well.  And  so  it  comes  about  that  the  most  satisfactory 
test  of  a  person's  mastery  over  a  piece  of  literature, 
whether  poetry  or  prose,  is  his  ability  to  read  it  aloud. 


RHYTHM   AS  CONCERNED   IN  THE  POET'S  ART 

THE  NATURE  OF  RHYTHM 

What  is  the  nature  of  rhythm  as  an  element  in  poetry  ? 
Iii  seeking  to  answer  this  question  one  should  bear  in 
mind  that  poetic  rhythm  is  only  a  specialized  form  of 
sometliing  that  may  be  met  with  on  every  hand.  In  its 
widest  sense  —  that  is,  as  conditioned  by  "  periodicity, 
rise  and  fall,  recurrence  of  maxima  and  minima " 
rhythm  is  an  inseparable  property  of  motion.  And  so, 
whether  we  regard  a  storm,  the  flight  of  a  bird,  or  every- 
day speech,  rhythm  is  never  absent.  This  wide  applica- 
tion of  the  word  is  in  keeping  witli  its  derivation  from 
pvOfjids,  whose  meaning  is  measured  motion  and  whose 
root  signifies  flow.  Rhythm  is  instinctive  in  man  and  a 
necessary  part  of  his  nature.  It  pervades  all  his  actions, 
especially  those  involving  emotion.  Curiously  enough 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  5 

rhythm  has  an  important  effect  on  memory.  That  is  to 
say,  one  is  more  likely  to  remember  an  utterance  that  is 
rhythmical  than  one  that  is  unrhythmical.  It  therefore 
comes  about  through  no  mere  chance  that  proverbs  and 
other  sayings  handed  down  from  age  to  age  are  almost 
invariably  cast  in  a  highly  rhythmical  form.  Hence,  too, 
the  antiquity  of  poetry ;  its  rhythmical  character  rendered 
transmission  by  memory  possible  before  the  invention  of 
writing. 

In  the  course  of  time  man  has  developed  certain  modes 
of  activity  called  the  arts,  three  of  which  are  based  on 
rhythm:  namely,  dance,  music,  and  poetry.  Here  only 
such  rhythm  is  admitted  as  appeals  readily  to  the  human 
mind  and  serves  to  rouse  or  satisfy  emotion. 

Our  knowledge  of  rhythm  as  thus  employed  is  derived 
in  no  small  degree  from  the  Greeks.  Plato  considered  it 
to  be  measured  motion  (77  rrjs  Kivrjeew  raf i<?.  —  Leges, 
665  A).  Aristotle  held  that  all  rhythm  is  measured  by 
motion  which  has  certain  defined  limits  (iras  pvOpos  api- 
a-fjievr)  fj-erpeirai  tcivrfo-ei.  —  Problemata,  5,  16).  And,  con- 
sistently with  this  view,  Aristoxenos  regarded  rhythm  as 
divisions  of  time  marked  off  from  one  another  and  drawn 
up  in  an  orderly  succession  (xpovwv  ra|t?  cKfxopuT/jLevr)). 
James  Hadley,  in  his  essay  on  rhythm  and  meter,  ampli- 
fying the  thought  of  Aristoxenos,  defines  rhythm  as  "a 
regular  succession  of  times  ...  so  marked  off  and  distin- 
guished that  the  proportionality  of  the  times  and  the  regu- 
larity of  their  succession  shall  be  obvious  to  human  sense. 
These  times  may  be  marked  by  the  movements  of  the 
body,  as  in  dancing ;  by  tones  of  various  pitch  and  stress, 
as  in  music ;  by  syllables  of  uttered  words,  as  in  poetry 


6  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

These  principles  do  not  require  words  for  their  manifesta- 
tion ;  they  do  not  require  even  sounds ;  the  silent  art  of 
orchestic  has  its  arses  and  theses,  its  trochees  and  iambuses, 
its  dactyls  and  anapests,  not  less  truly  than  music  and 
poetry." 

In  line  with  the  same  ancient  authority  is  the  defini- 
tion of  Professor  Milton  W.  Humphreys :  "  Ehythm  is  the 
division  of  time  into  small,  approximately  equal  units  by 
corresponding  units  of  sound,  or  less  sensibly  by  muscular 
movement  or  visible  motion.  Khythm  bears  the  same 
relation  to  time  that  symmetry  does  to  space.  The  arts 
of  space  and  rest  —  statuary,  architecture,  and  painting  — 
are  based  on  symmetry,  while  the  arts  of  time  and  motion 

—  dance,  music,  and  poetry  —  are  based  on  rhythm." 

By  way  of  further  illustration,  suppose  that  there  be  pro- 
duced an  indefinite  series  ,of  perfectly  monotonous  sounds, 
such  as  come  from  a  metronome,  —  each  sound  separated 
from  the  next  by  a  constant  interval,  each  identical  with 
every  other  in  duration,  intensity,  and  quality.  To  the 
mind  hearing  these  sounds  and  itself  supply  ing  nothing 

—  if  this  were  possible  —  there  would  be  no  rhythm  in 
the  artistic  sense  of  the  term ;  there  would  be  nothing  to 
determine  how  many  sounds  constituted  a  group,  or  how 
long  the  divisions  were.    But  on  the  other  hand,  should, 
say,  every  second  sound  be  made  to  differ  in  some  particu- 
lar from  the  rest,  whether  in  duration,  intensity,  pitch, 
or  adjacent  interval,  there  would  then  spring  into  being 
rhythm  of  the  general  type  employed  in  art.1 

1  "  The  phenomena  proper  to  rhythm  are  identical  in  music  and 
verse.  The  characteristic  differences  between  the  two  lie  solely  in 
the  nature  of  their  secondary  factors.  The  rhythms  of  music  are 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  7 

THE  INTERLACING  SERIES  IN  A  POETIC  RHYTHM 

When  a  poem  is  read  or  sung  we  conie  under  the  sway 
of  rhythm  that  results  not  from  a  single  series  of  time 
divisions  but  from  several  such  series  running  simultane- 
ously and  harmoniously ;  some  divisions  are  shorter,  some 
longer ;  those  of  a  given  series  have  approximately  equal 
duration.  In  the  following  example  from  Burns  we  may 
regard  the  several  series  one  at  a  time. 

a.  Ye  banks  |  and  braes  |  o'  bon  |  ie  Doon,  |  How  can  |  ye  bloom 
|  sae  fresh  |  and  fair !  |  How  can  |  ye  chant,  |  ye  lit  |  tie 
birds,  |  And  I  |  sae  wea  |  ry,  fu'  |  o'.care ! 

6.  Ye  banks  and  braes  |  o'  bonie  Doon,  |  How  can  ye  bloom  | 
sae  fresh  and  fair !  |  How  can  ye  chant,  |  ye  little  birds, 
|  And  I  sae  wea  |  ry,  fu'  o'  care  ! 

c.  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonie  Doon,  |  How  can  ye  bloom  sae 

fresh  and  fair  !  |  How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds,  |  And 
I  sae  weary,  fu'  o'  care  ! 

d.  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonie  Doon,  How  can  ye  bloom  sae 

fresh  and  fair !  |  How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds,  And 
I  sae  weary,  fu'  o'  care  ! 

So  harmoniously  are  the  different  series  interrelated 
that  the  hearer  feels  them  all  at  the  same  time  and  as 
one  rhythm,  the  smaller  amplitudes  reenforcing  the  larger 

expressed  in  forms  which  have  rich  and  pleasing  qualities  —  tones; 
those  of  verse  are  supported  by  forms  which  arouse  varied  and  beauti- 
ful images  —  articulate  speech.  In  the  former  the  immediate  sensuous 
quality  of  the  sound  predominates,  the  ideas  suggested  are  secondary, 
obscure,  or  lacking ;  in  the  latter  the  images  which  the  words  call  to 
mind  absorb  attention,  while  the  musical  qualities  of  the  voice  are 
usually  meager  or  unheeded.  It  is,  therefore,  a  natural  result  that  in 
music  the  formal  conditions  of  rhythm  are  faithfully  observed,  while 
in  verse  they  are  transgressed  constantly  and  with  freedom. ' '  —  Pro- 
fessor Robert  MacDougall,  Psych.  Review,  January,  1903. 


8  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

ones.  Thus  the  complexity  of  rhythm  in  this  compara- 
tively  simple  song  becomes  apparent.  The  poet  ha>  had 
the  skill,  if  we  may  use  a  musical  figure,  to  set  his  lan- 
guage simultaneously  to  several  series  of  different  periods 
or  amplitudes. 

RHYTHM  AND  METER 

We  hear  the  expressions  "  the  rhythm  of  a  poem  "  and 
"the  meter  of  a  poem."  What  then  is  the  distinction 
between  rhythm  and  meter?  Ehythm  is  a  widely  inclu- 
sive term,  as  appears  in  the  foregoing  discussion.  Meter, 
however,  is  limited  to  the  field  of  language  (and  music), 
where  it  denotes  rhythm,  not  in  all  its  rich  detail,  but  to 
the  extent  of  its  main  plan,  —  namely,  those  rhythmic 
relations  that  conform  to  a  system  of  fixed  measures. 
This  measuring  process  is  practicable  only  when  the  divi- 
sions recur  regularly  and  the  included  sounds  are  arranged 
according  to  some  pattern  or  definite  plan,  as  is  the  case 
in  poetry.  The  description  of  specimen  series,  therefore, 
gives  one  an  idea  of  the  rhythm  throughout  a  whole  com- 
position. In  prose,  while  there  is  rhythm,  the  divisions  are 
too  variable,  both  in  duration  and  structure,  to  be  treated  in 
this  manner:  hence  the  canon  that  prose  should  embody  a 
certain  rhythm  or  harmonious  movement,  but  one  not  so  pre- 
cise as  to  give  the  effect  of  meter.  Rhythm  in  one  form  or 
another  belongs  to  prose  and  poetry,  meter  to  poetry  alone. 

The  distinction  between  these  terms  is  further  illus- 
trated in  the  following  remarks  of  C.  S.  Calverley  ( Jr»; /•/•*, 
page  498  ff.) : 

What  appears  to  me  to  be  the  almost  universal  fallacy  of 
metrical  writers  is  the  assumption  that  when  you  have  got  the 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  9 

scansion  of  a  line  you  have  got  its  rhythm.  .  .  .  Meter  ...  is,  in 
my  view,  a  sort  of  framework  whose  office  is  to  support  the  verse. 
It  is  possible  to  train  a  rose  or  a  vine  upon  a  trellis  so  that,  while 
it  adheres  firmly,  it  is  still  left  to  follow  its  own  devices  and  form 
its  own  pattern  over  the  laths,  which  are  only  seen  here  and  there 
amongst  the  leaves  and  tendrils.  It  would  also  be  possible  to 
force  everv  branch  and  spray  into  strict  conformity  with  the  lines 
of  the  frame,  so  that  the  outline  of  its  squares  should  be  the  only 
outline  visible.  The  former  method  seems  to  me  to  be  the  way 
in  which  Homer  and  Vergil,  and  all  poets  ancient  or  modern,  .  .  . 
have  dealt  with  meter. 

In  other  words,  meter  is  not  synonymous  with  poetic 
rhythm  in  its  whole l  range,  but  rather  with  the  ground 
form  of  such  rhythm.  Meter  connotes  less  than  rhythm. 
The  former  relates  simply  to  scansion,  that  is,  to  the  form 
of  a  poem  as  measured  by  feet,  cola,  verses,  and  the  like. 
The  latter  relates  to  all  factors,  even  the  most  subtle  and 
indirect,  that  produce  the  flow  of  sound  as  organized  by 
the  poet. 

KINDS  OF  EHYTHM 

It  is  customary  to  divide  poetic  rhythms  into  classes 
on  the  basis  of  the  constituent  elements  of  the  time  divi- 
sions. These  divisions  in  the  case  of  English  or  German 
poetry  are  occupied  by  syllables  whose  most  notable  sound 
characteristic  is  that  some  are  more  heavily  stressed  than 
others.  More  or  less  similar  is  the  poetry  of  many  other 
modern  languages.  The  rhythm,  therefore,  in  these  cases 
belongs  to  the  accentual  class,  because  it  is  marked  to  a 
greater  or  less  extent  by  accent  or  stress.  On  the  other 

1  rd.  yap  ^rpa.  6n  fibpia  TWV  pvOn&v  ten  ipavfpbv.  —  Aristotle,  Poet- 
ics, 4,  6. 


10  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

hand,  the  divisions  of  Greek  or  Latin  poetry  are  occupied 
by  syllables  whose  most  notable  sound  characteristic  is 
that  some  last  a  longer  time  than  others.  In  this  case  the 
rhythm  belongs  to  the  quantitative  class.  Cf.  ictus,  p.  44. 

Whether  accentual  or  quantitative,  the  rhythm  of  poetry 
is  reenforced  by  certain  special  effects ;  that  is  to  say, 
certain  turns  of  sound  or  periods  of  silence  are  intro- 
duced in  such  a  manner  and  at  such  points  as  to  signal- 
ize the  rhythmical  divisions.  These  auxiliary  factors,  as 
they  may  be  termed,  are  not  all  present  in  every  language, 
nor  is  it  the  poet's  way  to  employ  many  simultaneously. 
As  division  succeeds  division  they  are  sometimes  numer- 
ous, sometimes  few.  Those  most  commonly  employed  are 
as  follows : 

1.  Silence.  One  can  not  properly  read  a  poem,  or  sing 
a  song,  without  observing  certain  moments  of  silence, 
rhythmical  conditions  requiring  (a)  rests  and  (b)  pauses, 
sense  conditions  requiring  (c)  stops. 

a.  Not  infrequently  it  serves  the  poet's  purpose  to 
leave  a  brief  portion  of  the  rhythm  unoccupied  by  sound. 
The  resulting  silence  is  termed  a  rest.  This  has  three 
characteristics :  it  occurs  within  rhythmical  divisions 
(feet) ;  its  duration  is  prescribed  by  the  form  of  these 
divisions;  its  bearing  on  the  rhythm  is  direct.  The  first 
line  of  the  following  selection  contains  a  rest  in  each 

foot 

|  Break,       |  break,       |  break, 

On  thy  |  cold  gray  j  stones,  O  j  Sea  I 

The  movement  of  these  verses  has  been  well  represented 
in  musical  symbols  by  Mr.  William  Thomson,  The  Basis 
of  English  Rhythm,  page  54. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  11 

b.  The  rhythm  of  a  poein  is  here  and  there  momen- 
tarily suspended,  giving  place  to  a  pause.    This  has  three 
characteristics:  it  falls  sometimes  within,  sometimes  be- 
tween, rhythmical  divisions ;  its  duration  is  not  definitely 
fixed  by  these  divisions,  being  left  to  the  interpretation 
of  the  individual  reader  or  singer;  its  bearing  on  the 
rhythm  is  indirect.    Examples  of  pauses  are  indicated  by 
perpendicular  lines  in  verses  b,  c,  and  d  on  page  7. 

c.  Speech  naturally  falls  into  phrases,  clauses,  and  sen- 
tences,—  in  short,  into  divisions  commonly  set  off  from  one 
another  by  stops.    Their  location  is  shown  on  the  printed 
page  for  the  most  part  by  punctuation.    In  poetry,  no  less 
than  in  prose,  stops  are  needed  to  make  the  language  clear 
and  easily  intelligible.  They  help. the  meaning  without  doing 
violence  to  the  rhythm,  just  as  rests  and  pauses  help  the 
rhythm  without  doing  violence  to  the  meaning.    Bests  and 
pauses,  being  governed  by  rhythmical  laws,  recur  with  much 
regularity;  stops,  on  the  other  hand,  being  governed  by 
rhetorical  laws,  respond  to  the  widely  varying  demands  of 
thought.    Accordingly,  a  sense  division  now  coincides,  now 
falls  at  variance,  with  a  rhythmical  division,  each  gaining 
something  from  the  other,  each  being  in  a  degree  restrained 
by  the  other.     This  illustrates  well  how  the  poet's  'art 
maintains  a  nice  balance  between  content  and  form. 

If  the  sense  divisions  of  a  poem  repeatedly  coincide 
with  the  rhythmical  divisions,  the  effect  in  reading  is  a 
kind  of  "  fcing-song."  Mother  Goose  abounds  in  examples : 


Sing  a  song  of  sixpence, 
A  pocket  full  of  rye  ; 

Four  and  twenty  blackbirds 
Baked  in  a  pie. 


12  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

When  the  pie  was  opened, 

The  birds  began  to  sing  ; 
Was  not  that  a  dainty  dish 

To  set  before  the  king  ? 

The  king  was  in  his  counting-house, 

Counting  out  his  money ; 
The  queen  was  in  the  parlor, 

Eating  bread  and  honey  ; 

The  maid  was  in  the  garden, 

Hanging  out  the  clothes  ; 
When  up  came  a  blackbird, 

And  nipped  off  her  nose. 

Opposed  to  this  style  of  composition  is  the  complex  form, 
one  wherein  the  rhythmical  divisions  do  not  predominantly 
correspond  with  the  sense  divisions.  A  good  example  of 
this  is  found  in  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam.  The  poet  makes 
the  two  correspond  often  enough  to  keep  the  reader  con- 
scious of  the  type  of  the  rhythm ;  but  non-correspondence 
is  also  present  to  satisfy  the  subtle  laws  of  variety  and 
beauty.  The  following  selection  may  serve  as  an  example : 

What  hope  is  here  for  modern  rhyme 
To  him,  who  turns  a  musing  eye 
On  songs,  and  deeds,  and  lives,  that  lie 

Foreshorten M  in  the  tract  of  time? 

These  mortal  lullabies  of  pain 

May  bind  a  book,  may  line  a  box, 

May  serve  to  curl  a  maiden's  locks  ; 
Or  when  a  thousand  moons  shall  wane 

A  man  upon  a  stall  may  find, 

And,  passing,  turn  the  page  that  tells 
A  grief,  then  changed  to  something  else, 

Sung  by  a  long-forgotten  mind. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  13 

But  what  of  that  ?  My  darken'd  ways 
Shall  ring  with  music  all  the  same  ; 
To  breathe  my  loss  is  more  than  fame, 

To  utter  love  more  sweet  than  praise. 

2.  Sound  Parallelism.  Under  this  head  are  included 
rime,  assonance,  and  alliteration.  These  effects  are  so 
arranged  by  the  poet  that,  among  other  things,  they  may 
help  define  for  the  hearer  the  rhythmical  divisions.  For 
example,  without  the  aid  of  rime  one  would  hardly  obtain 
a  true  impression  of  the  rhythm  of  a  sonnet,  whose  verses 
often  close  without  sense  pauses.  The  hearer  could  not 
always  be  sure  where  the  verses  end,  and  the  musical 
effects  would  be  obscured. 

Like  rime  in  its  relation  to  rhythm  is  assonance,  with 
its  correspondence  of  vowels  but  not  of  consonants,  as  in 
the  following  example : 

Maiden,  crowned  with  glossy  blackness, 

Lithe  as  panther  forest-roaming, 
Long-armed  naiad,  when  she  dances, 

On  a  stream  of  ether  floating. 

George  Eliot,  The  Spanish  Gypsy. 

The  part  played  by  assonance  in  the  evolution  of  poetic 
forms  has  been  happily  touched  upon  by  Walter  Pater  in 
his  remarks  on  the  old  French  songs  contained  in  the 
thirteenth-century  romance  Aucassin  et  Nicolette : 

The  songs  themselves  are  of  the  simplest  kind,  not  rimed  even, 
but  only  imperfectly  assonant,  stanzas  of  twenty  or  thirty  lines 
apiece,  all  ending  with  a  similar  vowel  sound.  And  here,  as 
elsewhere  in  that  early  poetry,  much  of  the  interest  lies  in  the 
spectacle  of  the  formation  of  a  new  artistic  sense.  A  new  music 
is  arising,  the  music  of  rimed  poetry,  and  in  the  songs  of  Aucassin 


14 

and  Nicolette,  which  seem  always  on  the  point  of  passing  into 
true  rime,  but  which  halt  somehow,  and  can  never  quite  take 
flight,  you  see  people  just  growing  aware  of  the  elements  of  a  new 
music  in  their  possession,  and  anticipating  how  pleasant  such 
music  might  become.  —  The  Renaissance,  page  18. 

Alliteration  was  used  regularly  in  old  Teutonic  poetry 
as  a  means  for  pointing  the  rhythm. 

Hire  robe  was  ful  riche  of  red  scarlet  engreyned. 

Piers  Plowman,  ii,  15. 

It  occurs  to  some  extent  in  all  poetry,  and  almost  never 
without  some  bearing  on  rhythm.  Here  are  some  examples : 

Some  /ump,  ah  God,  of  /apis  Jazuli, 
.Big  as  a  Jew's  head  cut  off  at  the  nape, 
.Slue  as  a  vein  o'er  the  Madonna's  fcreast. 

Browning,  The  Bishop  Orders  his  Tomb. 

Would  that  the  structure  brave,  the  manifold  music  I  build, 

Bidding  my  organ  obey,  calling  its  keys  to  their  work, 
Claiming  each  slave  of  the  sound,  at  a  touch,  as  when  Solomon 

willed 

Armies  of  angels  that  soar,  legions  of  demons  that  lurk, 
Man,  brute,  reptile,  fly,  —  alien  of  end  and  of  aim, 

Adverse,    each    from    the    other    heaven-high,    hell-deep 

removed,  — 

Should  rush  into  sight  at  once  as  he  named  the  ineffable  Name, 
And  pile  him  a  palace  straight,  to  pleasure  the  princess  he 
loved  I 

Would  it  might  tarry  like  his,  the  beautiful  building  of  mine, 
This  which  my  keys  in  a  crowd  pressed  and  importuned  to 

raise  ! 
Ah,  one  and  all,  how  they  helped,  would  dispart  now  and  now 

combine, 
Zealous  to  hasten  the  work,  heighten  their  master  his  praise ! 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  15 

And  one  would  bury  his  brow  with  a  blind  plunge  down  to  hell, 
Burrow  awhile  and  build,  broad  on  the  roots  of  things, 

Then  up  again  swim  into  sight,  having  based  me  my  palace  well, 
Founded  it,  fearless  of  flame,  flat  on  the  nether  springs. 

Browning,  Abt  Vogler. 

It  is  instructive  to  compare  the  stanzas  throughout  the 
whole  of  this  poem  and  to  note  that  alliteration  is  intro- 
duced not  haphazardly,  but  in  close  conformity  with  the 
plan  of  the  rhythm. 

Examples  in  Latin  poetry  are  often  met  with : 

ill!  indlgnantes  ?nagno  cu»t  muraure  Tnontis.  —  Verg.  Aen.  i,  55. 
solvite  corde  metum  Teucri  secludite  curas.  —  ib.  i,  562. 
/evis  crepante  /ympha  desi/it  pede.  —  Hor.  Ep.  xvi,  48. 

3.  The  Connected  or  Disconnected  Character  of  Sounds. 
Syllables  are  ordinarily  uttered  either  in  smoothly  con- 
nected successions  or  detached  from  one  another.  These 
effects  are  not  unlike  legato  and  staccato  notes  in  music. 
The  fact  is,  our  speech  has  here  many  gradations,  several  of 
which  may  not  infrequently  be  detected  within  the  limits 
of  a  single  verse,  or  even  of  a  single  word.  The  relative 
closeness  of  sounds  serves  different  purposes,  one  of  which  is 
to  support  the  rhythm,  though  this  is  done  in  ways  that  are 
extremely  subtle  and  seldom  consciously  apprehended  perse. 
These  effects  play  through  the  succession  of  sounds  in  such  a 
manner  that,  as  the  need  arises,  the  rhythmical  divisions  are 
thereby  emphasized  and  thrown  into  relief.  The  poet  indi- 
cates them  to  some  extent  in  his  text,  but  a  great  deal  has 
to  be  left  to  the  feeling  and  interpretation  of  the  individual 
reader  or  singer.  For  an  example  take  Tennyson's  lines : 

Thou  read  the  book,  my  pretty  Vivien  ! 
O  ay,  it  is  but  twenty  pages  long. 


16  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

A  sort  of  balance  or  parallelism  is  here  brought  about  by 
the  alternation  of  staccato  and  legato  effects  (the  foniu-r 
being  indicated  by  dots). 

4.  Location  of  Correlated  Expressions.  Coordinate  words 
or  parts  of  words  may  be  so  placed  by  the  poet  that  rhyth- 
mical divisions  are  thereby  thrown  into  relief.  Take,  for 
example,  these  lines  from  Pope's  Essay  on  Criticism,  where 
the  quotations  are  introduced  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
set  off  the  limits  of  the  verse  and,  less  exactly,  the  limit s 
of  its  two  main  divisions : 

While  they  ring  round  the  same  unvaried  chimes, 
With  sure  returns  of  still  expected  rhymes ; 
Where'er  you  find  "  the  cooling  western  breeze," 
In  the  next  line  it  "  whispers  through  the  trees." 

This  point,  however,  finds  happiest  illustration,  not  in 
our  own  so-called  analytic  languages  but  rather  in  the 
synthetic  languages,  like  Greek  or  Latin,  where  word 
order  is  not  much  bound  by  grammatical  considerations, 
but  is  free  for  a  wide  range  of  rhetorical  effects.  The 
bearing  of  word  order  on  the  rhythm,  as  regards  the  Latin 
language,  may  be  illustrated  by  the  following  verses  from 
Horace's  Odes : 

(1)  Chiasmus. 

luctantem  Teams  |  fluctibus  Africum.  —  i,  1,  15. 

(2)  Agreement  of  the  first  and  last  words  in  a  verse. 

Myrtdum  pavidus  |  nauta  secet  mare.  —  i,  1,  14. 

(3)  Corresponding  inflectional  endings  at  the  close  of 
the  halves  of  a  verse. 

quidquid  de  Libyci*  |  verritur  areis i,  1,  10, 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  17 

(4)  Interlocked  word  order. 
Maecenas  atavis  |  edite  regibus.  —  i,  1,  1. 

(5)  Each  half  of  a  verse  occupied  by  a  closely  knit 
word  group. 

obstrictis  aliis  |  praeter  lapyga.  —  i,  3,  4. 

(6)  Anaphora. 

nee  trlstis  Hyadas  |  nee  rabiem  Noti.  —  i,  3,  14. 

(7)  A  pair  of  coordinate  words  may  be  placed : 

a.  As  the  initial  words  in  the  halves.     These  halves 
may  belong  to  the  same  verse,  as  in  6  above,  or  to  different 
verses. 

me  doctarum  ederae  |  praemia  f  rontium 

dis  miscent  superis  :  |  me  gelidum  nemus.  —  i,  1,  29-30. 

seu  visa  est  catulis  |  cerva  fidelibus, 

seu  riipit  teretes  |  Marsus  aper  plagas i,  1,  27-28. 

b.  As  the  pivotal  words  in  the  halves. 

spernit,  nunc  viridi  |  membra  sub  arbuto 

stratus,  nunc  ad  aquae  |  lene  caput  sacrae.  —  i,  1,  21—22. 

quas  out  Parrhasius  |  protulit  out  Scopas.  —  iv,  8,  6. 

After  all,  when  one  reads  a  poem  from  the  printed 
page,  the  mechanical  devices  for  producing  rhythm,  such 
as  have  been  described,  would  avail  little  without  the 
reader's  instinct  to  rhythmize.  The  rhythm  is  something 
more  than  the  sound  materials  employed  in  producing  it. 
So  deep  is  a  feeling  for  rhythm  grounded  in  human  nature 
that  when  the  reader  catches  the  suggestion  of  the  poem's 
rhythm  he  is  somehow  impelled  from  within  to  carry  it 
forward  in  its  ideal  form,  himself  making  good  any 


18  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

shortcomings  and  irregularities  that  may  be  inherent  in 
the  language  of  the  poem.1 

It  may  be  noted  in  this  connection  that  sounds  for  any 
reason  subject  to  variation  in  speech,  when  introduced 
into  a  poem,  are  uttered  in  the  particular  form  that  is 
suited  to  the  place  in  the  verse  where  they  occur.  Thus, 
through  the  constraint  of  rhythm,  rime,  or  some  other 
influence  in  the  poet's  art,  (a)  an  old-fashioned  pronun- 
ciation may  be  demanded,  as  when  wind  reverts  to  wind, 
or  charmed  to  charmed]  (b)  a  sound  may  be  somewhat 
curtailed  or  extended ;  as  an  example  of  the  latter,  country 
is  sometimes  given  the  value  countree ;  (c)  two  syllables, 
whether  of  a  single  word  or  of  adjacent  words,  sometimes 
under  particular  circumstances  are  reduced  to  one ;  as 
when  heaven  is  sounded  heav'n,  or  the  eternal  becomes 
th' eternal.  Once  in  a  while  the  reader  or  singer  is  led  to 

1  "  Nor  .  .  .  can  we  refer  the  pleasure  of  rhythmical  apperception  or 
activity  wholly  to  the  sensuous  feeling  and  organic  reverberation 
aroused.  .  .  .  The  pleasure  derives  not  from  the  quality  of  the  indi- 
vidual elements  .  .  .  but  evolves  also  from  the  fact  that  the  rhythm  is 
characterized  by  formal  unity,  that  it  possesses  a  beginning,  a  climax, 
an  end,  as  individual  and  definite  as  the  quality  of  the  single  beat  or 
the  constitution  of  the  unit  group  which  enters  into  it ;  and  this  sense 
of  the  complete  formal  sequence  is  present  from  the  beginning  and 
pervades  the  whole  experience  of  rhythm.  Curtail  the  series,  and  its 
f  ragmentariness  is  immediately  felt  as  an  imperfection  of  the  rhythmic 
form ;  add  redundant  elements,  and  the  overstepping  of  the  natural 
rhythmic  close  is  felt  in  the  same  immediate  way ;  introduce  incon- 
gruous forms  of  temporal  or  intensive  relation,  and  the  discrepancy 
jars  upon  the  aesthetic  consciousness  as  a  violation  of  the  sequence 
which  the  rhythmical  formation  demands.  A  rhythmical  series  un- 
completed or  wrongly  executed  may  haunt  the  mind  for  hours  or  days, 
until  satisfaction  is  obtained  at  last  by  striking  the  final  note  or 
singing  the  phrase  in  correct  time."  —  Professor  MacDougall,  Psych. 
Review,  January,  1903. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  19 

make  two  syllables  out  of  what  ordinarily  strikes  the  ear 
as  one ;  as  when  legion  becomes  Icgi-on.  All  these  varia- 
tions are  generally  introduced  by  the  poet  only  when 
something  of  the  kind  becomes  necessary  to  make  the 
sounds  suggest  adequately  the  rhythmical  divisions.  He 
is  not  justified  in  any  variations  that  are  so  violent  as 
to  obscure  the  identity  of  the  words,  nor  in  any  without 
basis  and  warrant  in  the  usages  of  speech. 

EELATION  OF  EHYTHM  TO  IDEAS 

A  word  has  a  twofold  use.  On  the  one  hand  it  conveys 
a  direct  literal  meaning  such  as  is  ascribed  to  it  in  the 
dictionary.  On  the  other  hand  it  often  indirectly  suggests 
meaning.  For  example,  in  accordance  with  the  principle 
of  onomatoposia,  it  may  call  up  some  idea  by  its  mere 
sound ;  again,  words  may  have  such  interrelations  of  sound 
as  rime,  assonance,  or  alliteration,  and  thereby  produce 
emphasis  or  some  other  effect  on  the  mind  of  a  hearer; 
again,  the  sound  properties  of  a  word  may  be  so  articu- 
lated with  those  of  preceding  and  following  words  that 
rhythm  results.  In  these  and  many  other  ways  the  sounds 
of  words  may  be  so  arranged  and  managed  that  they  sug- 
gest more  than  is  conveyed  by  their  direct  meaning. 

The  way  a  poet  makes  his  language  indirectly  suggest 
meaning  has  been  happily  touched  upon  by  Mr.  F.  W.  H. 
Myers  in  his  essay  on  Vergil : 

In  poetry  of  the  first  order,  almost  every  word  (to  use  a  mathe- 
matical metaphor)  is  raised  to  a  higher  power.  It  continues  to 
be  an  articulate  sound  and  a  logical  step  in  the  argument ;  but  it 
becomes  also  a  musical  sound  and  a  center  of  emotional  force. 
It  becomes  a  musical  sound ;  —  that  is  to  say,  its  consonants  and 


20  CLASSICAL  LATIX  POETRY 

vowels  are  arranged  to  bear  a  relation  to  the  consonants  and 
vowels  near  it,  —  a  relation  of  which  accent,  quantity,  rime, 
assonance,  and  alliteration  are  specialized  forms,  but  which  may 
be  of  a  character  more  subtle  than  any  of  these.  And  it  becomes 
a  center  of  emotional  force  ;  —  that  is  to  say,  the  complex  asso- 
ciations which  it  evokes  modify  the  associations  evoked  by  other 
words  in  the  same  passage  in  a  way  quite  distinct  from  grammat- 
ical or  logical  connection.  The  poet,  therefore,  must  avoid  two 
opposite  dangers.  If  he  thinks  too  exclusively  of  the  music  and 
the  coloring  of  his  verse  —  of  the  imaginative  means  of  suggest- 
ing thought  and  feeling  —  what  he  writes  will  lack  reality  and 
sense.  But  if  he  cares  only  to  communicate  definite  thought 
and  feeling  according  to  the  ordinary  laws  of  eloquent  speech, 
his  verse  is  likely  to  be  deficient  in  magical  and  suggestive 
power. 

And  what  is  meant  by  the  vague  praise  so  often  bestowed  on 
Vergil's  unequaled  style  is  practically  this,  that  he  has  been, 
perhaps,  more  successful  than  any  other  poet  in  fusing  together 
the  expressed  and  the  suggested  emotion ;  that  he  has  discovered 
the  hidden  music  which  can  give  to  every  shade  of  feeling  its 
distinction,  its  permanence,  and  its  charm ;  that  his  thoughts 
seem  to  come  to  us  on  the  wings  of  melodies  prepared  for  them 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 

Rhythm  does  not  exist  as  a  tiling  by  itself,  but  is  part 
of  a  larger  whole.  As  viewed  here,  it  is  one  among  a  num- 
ber of  correlated  forces  that  make  up  a  poem.  And,  what 
seems  at  first  thought  beyond  human  skill,  all  these  forces 
are  made  to  act  upon  a  hearer  through  the  medium  of  a 
single  current  of  syllables.  For  how  otherwise  does  a 
poem  when  read  or  sung  strike  the  ear  ?  To  arrange  a  suc- 
cession of  syllables  with  sole  reference  to  rhythm  is 
perhaps  not  difficult;  but  to  arrange  them  so  that  the 
selfsame  series  shall  embody,  in  due  form  and  as  occa- 
sion demands,  words,  phrases,  clauses,  sentences,  pauses, 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  21 

accent,  quantity,  rhythm,  rime,  alliteration,  assonance, 
onomatopoeia,  harmony,  variety,  symmetry,  and  other 
poetic  properties,  all  contributing  directly  or  indirectly 
to  the  sense,  is  a  rare  feat  of  creative  skill.  Thought 
expressed  in  prose  enters  the  mind  of  a  hearer  directly 
and  through  few  doorways ;  but  thought  in  poetic  form  is 
borne  in  upon  the  mind  along  more  avenues  of  approach, 
each  message  confirming  and  reenforcing  every  other.1 

A  poem  may  be  regarded  as  the  outpouring  of  thought 
in  words  so  chosen  and  ordered  that,  when  uttered  natu- 
rally, they  carry  with  them  a  complex  and  subtle  accom- 
paniment, this  in  no  way  distracting  attention  but  rather 
contributing  something  to  the  force  of  the  thought.  It  is 
significant  that  the  rhythmical  cadences  of  prose  are 
generally  most  marked  in  passages  of  strong  emotion,  as 
though  the  speaker  there  found  the  literal  meaning  of  words 
insufficient  and  instinctively  sought  additional  ways  of 
driving  home  Ms  thought  and  feeling. 

1  This  principle  finds  illustration  in  any  poem.  Especially  inter- 
esting, however,  in  this  connection  is  Vergil,  G.  i,  322-334,  on  which 
passage  Papillon  and  Haigh  have  the  following  note:  "This  descrip- 
tion of  a  storm  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  highly  worked  and  care- 
fully finished  passages  in  Vergil  or  any  other  poet  —  language,  imagery, 
and  rhythm  all  combining  to  produce  consummate  poetic  effect. 
Note  especially  the  force  of  the  pauses  in  324,  326,  329-331,  and  333; 
of  the  perfects  fugere  and  stravit,  330,  331 ;  of  the  expressions  ruit, 
324,  spirantibus,  327,  corusca,  328 ;  of  the  alliterations  in  329,  330, 
and  of  sound  and  rhythm  alike  in  334.  Dr.  Kennedy  says  on  328-334, 
'  The  pause  at  dextra  marks  the  calmness  of  conscious  strength ;  at 
tremit,  breathless  terror;  at  pavor,  prostrate  expectation.  The  fol- 
lowing ille  and  the  thrice  repeated  aut  express  the  majestic  ease  of 
omnipotence ;  at  delicti  falls  the  sudden  crash  of  the  bolt ;  in  the 
words  which  follow  is  heard  the  rushing,  struggling,  moaning 
tempest.' " 


22  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

KHYTHMICAL  ELEMENTS 

SYLLABLES 

Ehythni  as  involved  in  poetry  has  been  considered  in 
the  foregoing  pages  along  general  lines,  but  from  tliis  point 
onward  the  subject  will  be  restricted  to  the  single  field 
of  Latin.  It  is  now  in  order  to  develop  somewhat  more 
fully  a  phase  of  the  subject  already  touched  upon,  namely, 
the  part  played  by  syllables.  The  existence  of  syllables 
rests  upon  a  natural  basis.  The  voice  can  not  convey  a 
succession  of  thoughts  except  by  being  varied  into  differ- 
ent sounds,  and  these  can  not  be  sufficiently  numerous  and 
distinguishable  for  our  needs  except  by  the  introductior  of 
such  as  break  or  hinder  the  current  of  breath,  producing  a 
division  into  syllables.  The  poet's  recognition  and  selection 
of  syllables  for  the  purposes  of  versification,  far  from  being 
a  highly  artificial  process,  is  mainly  subconscious.  His 
standard  and  criterion  are  not  the  dictionary,  nor  words 
sounded  separately,  but  audible,  fluent  speech.  And  so  it 
not  infrequently  happens  that  when  one  word  is  merged 
into  another,  the  result  is  a  syllable  that  embraces  parts  of 
two  words.  To  read  Latin  poetry  well,  one  must  bring  out 
distinctly  the  sound  properties  of  the  syllables,  some  of 
these  properties  being  inherent  in  the  separate  syllables, 
some  resulting  from  the  effect  one  syllable  has  upon 
another.  "What,  in  detail,  are  these  properties  ? 

A  syllable  comprises  a  vowel  alone,  a  diphthong  alone,  or 
either  in  close  union  with  one  or  more  consonants.  Latin 
vowels,  according  to  the  ancients,  fell  into  three  classes: 

(1)  those  of  brief  duration  and  therefore  considered  short, 

(2)  those  more  extended  in  time  and  therefore  considered 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES 


23 


long,  and  (3)  those  occurring  in  closely  knit  pairs,  called  diph- 
thongs, the  same  being  long.  Consonants  seemed  to  affect 
the  length  of  syllables,  in  that  syllables  were  spoken  more  or 
less  quickly,  and  therefore  occupied  more  or  less  time,  accord- 
ing to  the  number,  order,  and  position  of  the  consonants. 

In  the  daily  speech  of  the  Komans  the  syllables,  if  exactly 
measured,  must  have  occupied  many  different  lengths  of 
time.  This  is  borne  out  by  analogy  with  other  languages  and 
by  certain  lines  of  internal  evidence.  For  example,  take  the 
syllabic  combinations  of  consonant  and  vowel  sounds  known 
to  the  Latin  language,  as  shown  in  the  following  table  (v  = 
short  vowel ;  v  =  long  vowel  or  diphthong ;  c  =  consonant) : 

C       v        e(nim) 
Short  Syllables 


Long  Syllables 


[cv 

/"(I) 

ccv 

s/a(tus) 

cccv 

stru(o) 

V 

o 

cv 

da 

ccv 

sta 

cccv 

sfra(tus) 

vc 

et 

cvc 

sit 

CC.VC 

slot 

cccvc 

sfric(tus) 

vc 

OS 

cvc 

sU 

ccvc 

stds 

cccvc 

s/nZc(tus) 

vcc 

est 

cvcc 

sunt 

ccvcc 

slant 

cccvcc 

strix 

vcc 

(sci)ens 

cvcc 

dans 

ccvcc 

stans 

24  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

Manifestly  the  time  required  for  uttering  these  diverse 
forms  varies  considerably.  And  yet  a  system  of  versifica- 
tion that  should  take  into  account  many  syllabic  lengths 
would  be  unwieldy.  The  Romans,  therefore,  did  well  to 
recognize  two  and,  in  the  main,  only  two  lengths  of  sylla- 
bles in  their  language,  namely  short  and  long.  A  long 
syllable  was  normally  taken  to  have  twice  the  duration  of 
a  short  syllable.  The  latter  derived  its  length  from  the 
average  duration  of  the  most  rapidly  uttered  syllables  in 
easy,  fluent  speech.  People  of  slow  enunciation  naturally 
protracted  their  syllables  more  than  rapid  speakers,  but 
for  purposes  of  rendering  poetry  whatever  time  was  nor- 
mally taken  by  an  individual  in  uttering  an  average  short 
syllable  became  for  him  a  standard  of  length. 

In  Latin  poetic  rhythm  the  shortest  durations  having 
a  clearly  marked  unity  are  the  feet.  A  foot,  however,  is 
made  up  of  a  certain  number  of  still  shorter  durations,  or 
brief  spaces  of  time,  each  made  sensible  to  the  ear  by  a 
syllable,  rarely  by  a  rest,  contained  within  it.  (For  con- 
venience, such  spaces  of  time  composing  a  foot  will  here- 
after be  referred  to  as  metrical  spaces,  or  simply  spaces.) 
A  short  space  (known  also  as  a  time,  mora,  semeion,  or 
•%p6vo<;  7r/3<wT05)  is  the  amount  of  time  that  can  be  filled 
out,  at  least  approximately,  by  a  short  syllable.  It  is 
commonly  represented  by  the  symbol  ^  and  by  the 
musical  sign  of  the  eighth  note  (ff).  Long  spaces  also 
enter  into  the  composition  of  feet,  less  often  triple  spaces 
and  quadruple  spaces.  A  long  space  has  twice  the  dura- 
tion of  a  short  one  and  is  approximately  filled  by  a  long 
syllable.  It  is  represented  by  the  symbol  —  and  by  the 
musical  sign  of  the  quarter  note  (j*).  An  iambic  foot,  for 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  25 

example,  is  represented  metrically  by  ^>—  and  musically 
by  ffi*,  being  composed  of  two  spaces,  a  short  followed  by 
a  long.  These  are  filled,  at  least  approximately,  by  a  short 
syllable  and  a  long  syllable  respectively.  A  triple  space 
has  thrice  the  time  of  a  short  one  and  is  filled  by  a  long 
syllable  sustained  —  partly  by  its  own  usual  length  and 
partly  by  the  regulating  effect  of  the  rhythm  —  through- 
out the  prescribed  space.  It  is  represented  by  the  %  symbol 
i-  or  -j  and  by  the  musical  sign  of  the  dotted  quarter 
note  (j*').  A  quadruple  space,  similar  to  the  foregoing 
except  that  it  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  four  short  spaces, 
is  represented  by  the  symbol  i— i  and  by  the  musical 
sign  of  the  half  note  (f^).  The  four  spaces  just  described 
are  sometimes  spoken  of  as  monosemic,  duosemic,  tri- 
semic,  and  tetrasemic  respectively.  If  the  time  normally 
occupied  by  any  syllable  of  a  word  in  common  speech 
should  vary  perceptibly  from  the  space,  whatever  it  may 
be,  where  the  poet  has  placed  it,  the  reader  or  singer, 
guided  by  his  feeling  for  the  swing  of  the  rhythm  as 
a  whole,  increases  or  diminishes  the  sound  to  fit  the 
conditions. 

A  syllable  is  said  to  be  closed  when  it  ends  with  a  con- 
sonant, and  open  when  it  ends  with  a  vowel. 

What  sounds,  it  is  now  in  order  to  ask,  were  acceptable 
to  the  Koman  ear  in  short  spaces,  what  ones  in  long  spaces  ? 
Manifestly  a  short  syllable  was  placed  within  a  short  space 
and  a  long  syllable  within  a  long  space.  But  precisely 
what  conditions  were  present  in  syllables  that  ranked 
as  short  and  what  in  those  that  ranked  as  long?  In 
seeking  an  answer  to  this  question  we  should  constantly 
regard  Latin  versification  in  the  light  of  the  conditions 


26  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

amid  which  it  originated  and  developed.    It  is  well,  for 
example, 

1.  To  bear  in  mind  that  this  mode  of  versification  grew 

up  at  an  early  period  among  the  Greeks,  and  \\as 
subsequently  superimposed  upon  Latin,  which  had 
already  been  fitted  to  a  radically  different  system 
of  versification,  one  wherein  stress  elements  prob- 
ably played  an  important  part. 

2.  To  realize  as  fully  as  possible  the  peculiarities  of 

Greek  pronunciation,  especially  those  affecting  the 
quantity  of  syllables. 

3.  To  realize  the  circumstances  of  poetical  composition. 

The  art  of  versification,  being  rooted  in  feeling, 
was  doubtless  well  established  before  rules  were 
drawn  up,  and  in  all  periods  must  have  been  prac- 
ticed to  a  certain  extent  without  reference  to  them. 

4.  To  know,  therefore,  that  syllables,  as   rhythmical 

elements,  assume  their  real  form  not  when  spelled, 
but  when  sounded. 

5.  To  take  into  account  the  fact  that  singing  was  the  fore- 

runner of  poetry  and  in  a  sense  gave  rise  to  it,  as  is 
hinted  by  the  double  meaning  of  aeiSeiv, carmen,  and 
canere.  Accordingly  the  speech-sounds  appropriate 
within  a  given  metrical  space  were  originally  those 
which  it  was  easy  and  natural  to  sing  in  that  situation. 

6.  To  note  what  meaning  lies  in  the  fact  that  a  verse  as 

it  appeared  on  the  written  page  was  often  continu- 
ous, there  being  no  more  space  between  words  than 
between  letters  of  the  same  word. 

7.  To  realize  that  carrying  out  completely  the  laws 

of  poetic  expression  presupposes  a  perfect  poet, 


GENERAL  riilN'CIPLES  27 

working   with   perfect    language    materials.     We 

may  not  assume,  therefore,  that  every  Latin  verse 

coming  down  to  us  from  antiquity  is  a  perfect 

thing ;  here  and  there  one  feature  must  have  been 

realized  somewhat  at  the  expense  of  another. 

Since  we  can  no  longer  listen  to.  the  living  voices  of 

the  Greeks  and  Romans,  the  best  we  can  do  in  seeking 

an  answer  to  our  proposed  questions  is  to  study  Greek 

and  Latin  poetry  in  the  form  in  which  it  survives,  together 

with  recorded  testimony  of  the  ancients  and  analogous 

usages  of  modern  speech.    In  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be 

observed  that  every  syllable  comprises  one  or  more  of  the 

three  following  elements : 

1.  The  ante-vowel  element  (often  wanting). 

2.  The  vowel  element  (never  wanting). 

3.  The  post-vowel  element  (often  wanting). 

In  the  first  syllable  of  e-bul-li-en-do ',  for  example,  the  vowel 
element  alone  is  present,  in  the  second  syllable  all  three 
elements,  in  the  third  syllable  the  ante-vowel  and  the 
vowel  elements,  in  the  fourth  syllable  the  vowel  and  post- 
vowel  elements. 

We  are  now  hi  a  position  to  consider  a  very  important 
point  in  the  nature  of  syllables.  While  the  component 
elements  are  generally  so  thoroughly  welded  together 
that  they  are  not  separately  appreciated,  still  each  ele- 
ment influences  directly  or  indirectly  the  amount  of  time 
taken  up  by  a  syllable.  The  ante-vowel  element,  however, 
seems  to  have  little  or  no  effect.  Practically  it  does  not 
take  up  time.  This  was  the  feeling  of  the  ancients,  at 
least,  and  much  the  same  thing  is  true  of  ourselves. 
When  a  syllable  containing  all  three  elements  is  sounded 


28  CLASSICAL  LATIN   POETRY 

in  our  ears  we  do  not  ordinarily  begin  to  take  note  of  the 
time  occupied  until  the  vowel  element  sets  in.  The  time 
that  the  syllable  seems  to  occupy  is  determined  mainly 
by  the  vowel  and  post-vowel  elements.  The  ante-vowel 
element,  therefore,  for  purposes  of  Latin  versification  does 
not  increase  the  quantity  of  the  syllable  to  which  it 
belonga  In  the  following  verse  of  the  ^Eneid  (i,  102),  for 

example, 

talia  iactanti  stridens  Aquilone  />rocella, 

the  syllables  a,  ne,  and  pro  each  fill  a  short  space.  We 
have,  therefore,  as  a  working  rule :  Ante-vowel  consonants 
within  a  syllable  do  not  affect  its  quantity. 

A  well-attested  fact  has  been  handed  down  to  us  from 
antiquity,  namely,  that  a  single  consonant  occurring 
between  two  vowels  of  a  word  is  sounded  more  closely  with 
the  latter  than  with  the  former  voweL  For  example, 
be-ne-jv-cira.  From  this  it  appears  at  once  that  initial  and 
medial  short  syllables  end  with  a  short  vowel.  But  when 
words  are  uttered  in  a  smoothly  connected  succession,  as 
is  usually  the  case  in  Latin  verse,  somewhat  the  same 
principle  applies  to  final  syllables.1  That  is,  if  a  word 
ends  with  a  consonant  and  the  ultima  of  that  word  serves 
to  fill  a  short  metrical  space,  as  in  primus  of  the  first 
example  below,  the  rhythmical  flow  of  the  language, 
when  sung  or  read,  tends  to  carry  the  sound  of  the  final 
consonant  over  to  the  initial  vowel  of  the  next  word. 
Even  in  our  heavily  accented  English  this  usage  holds  to 
some  extent,  for  we  say  quite  naturally  hi  fluent  speech 
a-tome  instead  of  at  home,  and  a-tall  instead  of  at  all.  In 

1  ...  in  earminibus  .  .  .  exigitur  strflctura  quaedam  et  inofff  nsa 
cOpulatiS  vOcum.  —  Quintilian,  i,  10,  28. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  29 

order  to  illustrate  and  to  bring  this  point  squarely  before 
us,  take  the  verses : 

arma  virumque  cano  Troiae  qul  primus  ab  oris. — Verg.  A  en.  i,  1. 
accepit  galea  et  primus  clainore  secundo.  —  ib.  v,  491. 

Speech  sounds,  let  us  bear  in  mind,  are  symbolized  to  the 
eye  by  absolutely  distinct  letters,  whereas  in  actual  utter- 
ance they  are  fluid  in  character  and  often  merge  in  one 
another.  The  syllables  of  Troiae,  for  example,  are  con- 
ventionally represented  Tro-iae.  This  implies  a  sharp 
division ;  the  probability  is,  however,  that  with  most 
ancient  readers  this  consonant  i,  while  amalgamating 
mainly  with  the  ae,  emanated,  as  it  were,  from  the  6,  so 
that  it  becomes  a  difficult  matter  to  state  exactly  what 
sounds  or  fractions  of  sounds  entered  into  each  syllable 
of  this  word,  or  indeed  of  any  word.  Let  us  now  note 
the  two  instances  of  the  word  primus  as  used  in  the 
lines  quoted  above.  Knowing  the  structure  of  the 
verses  we  discover  that  the  latter  part  of  the  first  primus 
filled  a  short  metrical  space,  but  the  latter  part  of  the 
second  primus  a  long  space.  It  is  not  reasonable  to  sup- 
pose that  the  parts  in  question  were  sounded  identically 
in  these  unlike  situations.  We  can  only  conclude  that 
the  final  syllable  of  primus  in  the  second  case  was  closed, 
but  in  the  first  case  had  the  effect  of  an  open  syllable, 
the  s  being  carried  along  to  the  next  word. 

This  process  whereby  a  final  consonant  is  sounded 
somewhat  in  conjunction  with  a  following  initial  vowel 
is  termed  linking  (compare  the  French  liaison).  The 
final  syllable  of  the  first  primus  appears  closed  as  the  eye 
sees  it  on  the  page,  but  it  is  really  open  as  the  ear  hears 


30  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

it  in  fluent  reading.  And  what  is  heard  is  of  course  the 
true  test.  The  poet  takes  care  never  to  introduce  a  short 
syllable  of  this  kind  without  providing  an  escape,  so  to 
speak,  for  the  final  consonant,  that  is,  without  having  the 
next  word  begin  with  a  vowel.  To  be  sure,  any  rhetorical 
pause  that  happens  to  occur  after  such  a  final  syllable 
proves  embarrassing,  because  it  keeps  the  final  consonant 
wholly  with  its  word.  Verses  with  a  pause  so  introduced, 
however,  are  rare,  and  they  are  to  be  viewed  in  the  light 
of  7  on  pages  26  f.  In  such  instances  the  poet  has  failed 
to  bring  the  materials  of  language  closely  into  harmony 
with  the  plan  of  the  rhythm.  That  linking  existed  in 
Latin  is  well  attested.  Cicero,  for  example,  (De  Oratore, 
iii,  172)  approves  an  orator's  speech,"  if  the  final  and  initial 
parts  of  words  are  so  linked  together  that  neither  harsh 
collision  nor  marked  hiatus  is  produced  (si  verba  extivma 
cum  consequentibus  primis  ita  iungentur,  ut  neve  aspere 
concurrant  neve  vastius  diducantur)."  And  Quintilian 
(ix,  4,  44)  gives  us  clearly  to  understand  that  in  fluent 
speech  the  concluding  part  of  one  word  was  closely  joined 
with  the  initial  part  of  the  next  word  (extrema  ac  prima 
coeunt).  Therefore,  under  the  conditions  of  fluent  read- 
ing, a  short  syllable  ends  with  a  short  vowel.  And,  since 
all  other  syllables  are  classed  as  long,  a  long  syUidlc 
ends  with  a  long  vowel  or  with  a  consonant  (see  table  on 
page  23). 

We  may  now  look  at  certain  concrete  cases  under  this 
last  rule.  In  the  JEneid,  vi,  <S4li,  tin-  verse  concludes 
restituis  rem  —  w  — — ,  where  the  first  syllable  must  be 
res-.  The  evidence  for  this  is  mainly  as  follows :  (a)  the 
space  to  be  filled  is  long,  as  the  meter  shows ;  but  since 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  31 

the  prefix  re-  in  itself  is  short  in  quantity,  the  s  must 
have  been  uttered  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  the  syllable 
closed  and,  therefore,  long ;  (6)  in  the  Corpus  Inscriptionum 
Latinarum,  x,  7494,  a  line  contains  the  word  restituit,  in 
which  the  stonecutter  indicated  the  first  syllable  as  res- ; 
other  inscriptions  in  which  syllables  are  separated  divide 
this  word  in  the  same  manner.  By  such  methods  of  study 
we  have  come  to  know  how  the  various  combinations  of 
Latin  consonants  are  to  be  managed  in  reading.  Cases  like 
in-ter,  where  only  one  pronunciation  is  at  all  probable, 
require  no  comment.  Others  call  for  special  notice.  The 
following  combinations,  occurring  between  two  vowels  of 
a  word  (whether  simple  or  compound),  are  to  be  divided 
as  indicated  by  the  hyphen : 

b-d  (ab-do)  mp-t  (emp-tvs) 

c-n  (Oc-nus)  p-tr  (cap-trix) 

c-t  (ac-ta)  s-b  (Lea-bos') 

c-tr  (vlc-trlx)  s-c  (cres-co) 

nc-t  (sanc-tus)  s-cl  (As-clum) 

d-n  (A-ri-ad-nd)  s-cr  (As-cra) 

g-n  (cdg-na-tus)  s-m  (Is-ma-rus) 

m-n  (om-nis)  s-p  (prds-pe-rus) 

p-n  (The-rap-nae)  s-t  (Cas-tor) 

p-s  (ip-se)  ns-t  (cons-tans) 

mp-s  (Amp-sanc-tus)  ns-tr  (mons-tro) 

p-t  (cap-tus)  s-tr  (cas-tra) 1 

Combinations  of  consonants  that  are  capable  of  being 
divided  in  more  than  one  way  will  be  discussed  under 
section  III  below. 

1  These  examples  are  drawn  in  part  from  W.  Dennison,  "  Syllabifi- 
cation in  Latin  Inscriptions,"  Classical  Philology,  Vol.  I,  No.  1. 


32  CLASSICAL  LATIN   POETRY 

VARIABLE  SYLLABLES 

The  process  of  composing  verses  may  be  regarded,  from 
the  mechanical  point  of  view,  as  setting  language  to 
rhythm,  as  adapting  the  general  material  of  language  to 
the  precise  forms  of  meter.  From  time  to  time  the  poet 
places  in  his  verse  a  word  subject  to  two  usages  of  pro- 
nunciation which  affect  the  quantity  of  syllables,  as  for 
example  mihi  and  mihl.  Between  them  he  must  choose, 
and  since  it  is  unlikely  that  they  have  equal  standing  and 
favor,  he  naturally  follows  as  a  rule  the  more  common 
usage.  Sometimes,  however,  for  the  sake  of  overcoming 
some  difficulty  in  metrical  composition  or  from  some 
other  cause,  he  has  recourse  to  the  less  common  usage; 
that  is  to  say,  he  adopts  either  a  rare  mode  of  pronun- 
ciation belonging  to  his  own  age,  an  archaism,  a  local 
pronunciation,  or,  should  a  non-conforming  word  be 
sorely  needed,  a  mode  of  utterance  authorized  by  little 
more  than  what  he  makes  out  to  be  a  possible  pronun- 
ciation. Serving  as  they  do  the  exigencies  of  versification, 
exceptional  modes  of  pronunciation  might  at  first  be  sup- 
posed to  detract  somewhat  from  the  excellence  of  a  poem. 
This  is  by  no  means  always  the  case.  At  the  hands  of  a 
poet  who  is  master  of  his  art,  they  are  made  not  only 
to  satisfy  a  practical  end  but  to  produce  variety  and 
occasionally  still  other  desired  effects.  In  the  case  of 
these  variable  syllables  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  meter 
is  a  reader's  guide  to  their  quantitative  value,  when  -us 
in  all  other  syllables  their  value  is  a  reader's  guide  to 
the  meter.  Syllables  subject  to  variation  may  be  classi- 
fied as  follows. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  33 

I.   Cases  Involving  Vowels  Variable  in  Quantity 

For  purposes  of  discussion  the  cases  which  involve  vowels 
variable  in  quantity  are  grouped  under  three  heads.  Under 
A  are  discussed  instances  where  two  vowels  are  so  placed 
that  they  fall  sometimes  in  a  single  metrical  space,  and 
sometimes  in  two  successive  spaces.  The  discussion  under 
B  treats  of  vowels  which  are  long  by  nature  according  to 
one  usage,  and  short  by  nature  according  to  another. 
Under  C  are  considered  vowels  that  are  sometimes  omitted 
altogether. 

A 

1.  (Simple)  Elision.  When  a  word  ended  with  a  vowel 
and  was  followed  by  a  word  whose  initial  sound  was  a 
vowel,  or  h  +  vowel,  a  Eoman  speaker  was  at  liberty  to 
keep  the  final  and  initial  syllables  separate  or  to  blend 
them  in  sound  —  the  latter,  however,  being  the  normal 
usage.  The  former  mode  of  utterance  resulted  in  what  is 
called  hiatus,  the  latter  in  elision.  In  elision  the  two 
syllables  were  practically  reduced  to  one,  whose  quantity 
for  purposes  of  versification  was  that  of  the  second  origi- 
nal syllable.  The  first  of  the  two  colliding  vowels  seems, 
as  a  rule,1  to  have  received  a  hurried  partial  pronunciation. 
In  this  way  it  was  suggested  to  a  hearer,  but  still  did 
not  occupy  any  appreciable  time.  (Compare  grace  notes 
in  music.)  Theoretically  elision  worked  no  change  in  the 
second  vowel. 

1  It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  norm  of  elision  is  here  set  forth.  When 
any  rhythmical  usage  came  into  conflict  with  matters  that  the  ancient 
reader  deemed  of  higher  importance,  it  doubtleas  failed  of  strict 
observance. 


34  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

That  the  first  rather  than  the  second  vowel  suffered 
curtailment  or  repression,  as  a  rule,  and  that  the  second 
determined  the  quantity  of  the  resulting  syllable,  is  shown, 
among  other  ways,  by  such  examples  as  the  following : 

art it'u- u ii  141  if  ma  11  us  inter  se  operuinque  laborem. 

Verg.  Acu.  i,  -l.V>. 

Here  the  sounds  resulting  from  the  elision  must  come 
within  a  short  metrical  space  and  therefore  do  service  as 
a  short  syllable,  even  though  the  first  vowel  involved  is 
long  by  nature.  Further  evidence  that  the  first  vowel 
was  repressed  is  found  in  Quintilian's  remark  (ix,  4,  36) : 
coeuntes  litterae,  quae  avva\oi<j)al  dicuntur,  etiam  leni- 
orem  faciunt  omtionem,  quam  si  omnia  verba  sud  fine 
dudantur.  But  that  this  vowel  was  by  usage  not  entirely 
lost  is  implied  in  ancient  comments  on  the  subject.  For 
example,  the  description  of  elision  given  by  Donatus  in  his 
Grammar  (page  396  K)  is  "a  gliding  and  gentle-  c<3m- 
pression  of  concurrent  vowels"  (lubrica  lenisque  collisio 
[vocalium  concurrentium]). 

Cicero  has  several  passages  bearing  on  elision  in  a 
general  way.  In  the  Orator,  xliv,  149  ff.,  he  expresses 
himself  as  follows: 

Therefore  the  words  [of  a  speech]  are  to  be  arranged  in  proper 
order,  so  that  the  last  syllable  of  one  word  and  th<-  first  syllable  of 
the  next  may  cling  together  as  closely  as  possible  and  have  sounds 
highly  agreeable,  again  that  their  natural  form  and  inherent 
symmetry  may  complete  their  own  perfectly  rounded  period,  and 
finally  that  the  period  in  its  completeness  may  have  a  neat  and 
rhythmical  cadence.  ...  It  is,  as  it  were,  a  kind  of  joinery.  .  .  . 
As  in  reading  the  eye  looks  forward,  so  in  speaking  the  mind  looks 
forward  to  what  is  to  follow,  in  order  that  the  corning  together 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  35 

of  final  and  initial  syllables  may  not  produce  sounds  marked  either 
by  hiatus  or  roughness.  For  however  much  charm  or  dignity 
there  may  be  in  the  thought,  still  if  it  is  expressed  through  words 
rudely  combined  it  offends  the  ear,  whose  judgment  is  most  fas- 
tidious. Indeed,  the  Latin  tongue  observes  this  to  such  a  degree 
that  no  one  is  so  unlettered  as  not  to  be  inclined  to  blend  (con- 
iunyere)  vowels  together. 

Especially  significant  is  the  last  expression.  Mr.  Sandys 
in  his  edition  of  the  Orator,  page  160,  says : 

This  passage  with  its  subsequent  context  is  (with  the  exception 
of  Lucilius)  the  earliest  evidence  now  extant  on  the  subject  of 
Latin  pronunciation.  It  leads  us  to  infer  that  the  Latin  language, 
in  its  pure  and  unadulterated  form,  could  not  endure  a  hiatus  ; 
that  even  rude  and  illiterate  peasants  habitually  avoided  it  by 
blending  together  the  consecutive  vowels  instead  of  sounding 
them  separately. 

The  remark  of  Quintilian  above  suggests  another  fact  in 
the  nature  of  elision.  It  was  originally,  employed  by  poets 
as  a  natural  feature  of  the  language,  but  in  the  course 
of  time  its  presence  in  a  verse,  when  skillfully  managed, 
came  to  impart  a  special  charm.  Mr.  Mackail  (Latin 
Literature,  page  9)  observes  that  in  reading  the  poetry  of 
Ennius  "  one  becomes  aware  ...  of  a  strange  and  austere 
beauty  of  rhythm  which  is  distinctly  Italian.  Specially 
curious  and  admirable  is  the  use  of  elision, ...  so  character- 
istic alike  of  ancient  and  modern  Italy.  In  Latin  poetry 
Vergil  was  its  last  and  greatest  master ;  its  gradual  disuse 
in  post-Vergiliau  poetry,  like  its  absence  in  the  earlier 
hexameters  of  Cicero,  was  fatal  to  the  music  of  the  verse, 
and  with  its  reappearance  in  the  early  Italian  poetry  of 
the  Middle  Ages  that  music  once  more  returns." 


36  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

Poets  tend  to  avoid  elision  that  would  involve  (a)  a  final 
long  vowel  or  diphthong  and  an  initial  short  vowel,  (b)  a 
final  vowel  that  is  immediately  preceded  by  another  vowel, 
(c)  the  first  two  vowels  of  a  verse,  and  (d)  the  last  two 
vowels  of  a  verse,  except  when  the  final  word  is  est.  In 
the  case  of  this  word  elisio  inversa  takes  place ;  that  is  to 
say,  the  ancient  reader  seems  generally  to  have  dropped 
the  e  altogether,  joining  st  to  the  preceding  word ;  e.g. 
bona  est  =  bonast. 

2.  Nasal  Elision  (Ecthlipsis).    When  a  word  ending  in 
a  short  vowel  +  m  occurred  before  a  word  beginning  with 
a  vowel,  or  h  +  vowel,  the  final  sounds  were  usually  elided. 
The  termination  was  probably  not  cut  off  altogether,  the 
m  being  uttered  rapidly  with  a  faint  nasal  sound.    The 
latter  part  of  the  English  word  album,  spoken  rapidly  in 
a  sentence,  gives  a  hint  of  such  a  sound.    The  basis  of 
this  figure  of  prosody  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  Latin  final  m 
under  these  circumstances  was  lightly  sounded,  the  word 
concerned  practically  ending  with  a  vowel.     That  this 
vowel  was  somewhat  audible  in  nasal  elision  is  attested 
by  Gellius  (xiii,  2 1)  when  he  tells  us  that  "  tum'w  in 
praecipiti "  was  more  agreeable  to  Vergil's  ear  than  "  turrem 
in  praecipiti."    When  the  enclitic  word  est  was  involved 
in  nasal  elision,  the  m  almost  or  quite  vanished  and  the  e 
was  dropped :  thus  bonum  est  became  bonu(m)st. 

3.  Inter- Verse  Elision  (Synapheio)  took  place  when  two 
verses  were  joined  together  by  elision,  one  element  involved 
occurring  at  the  close  of  a  verse,  the  other  at  the  outset  of 
the  next  verse.    Thus : 

sors  exitura  et  nos  in  aetemum 

ersilium  impositura  cumbae.  —  Hor.  Od.  ii,  3,  27-28. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  37 

In  such  pairs  the  first  verse  is  said  to  be  hypermetric. 
Eight  instances  of  inter-verse  elision  are  found  in  the  first 
six  books  of  the  jEneid,  namely :  i,  332-333 ;  448-449 ; 
ii,  745-746  ;  iv,  558-559  ;  629-630  ;  v,  422-423 ;  753- 
754 ;  vi,  602-603. 

4.  Half -Elision.  Sometimes  a  final  syllable  which  ended 
with  a  long  vowel  and  did  not  have  the  ictus  was  made  to 
occupy  a  short  metrical  space,  its  vowel  being  half  elided 
before  a  word  beginning  with  a  vowel,  or  h  +  vowel.    The 
long  vowel  hi  this  process  lost  part  of  its  length  and  thus 
became  consistent  with  the  short  space  to  which  it  had 
been  assigned  by  the  poet.    For  example :  • 

victor  apud  rapidum  Simoenta  sub  Ilio  alto. — Verg.  Aen.  v,  261. 

Books  i-vi  of  the  ^neid  show  instances  in  iii,  211;  v, 
261 ;  vi,  507. 

5.  Vowel  Coupling  (Synizesis).    Within  a  single  word 
two  successive  vowels   ordinarily  forming  two  syllables 
were  sometimes  made  to  occupy  a  single  metrical  space. 
Examples  are  deinde  and  alveo.    Among  the  first  six  books 
of  the  jEneid  cases  occur  in  the  following  passages :  i,  120  ; 
131 ;  195 ;  256  ;  698  ;  726 ;  iii,  602  ;  v,  352  ;  vi,  33 ;  280 ; 
412;  678. 

6.  Hiatus.  When  a  final  vowel,  or  final  m  preceded  by  a 
short  vowel,  was  followed  by  an  initial  vowel,  or  h  +  vowel, 
and  the  two  syllables  concerned  were  not  made  to  blend  in 
sound,  the  resulting  gap  was  called  hiatus.  This  means  liter- 
ally an  opening,  and  derives  its  name  from  the  fact  that  in  the 
utterance  of  the  sounds  the  vocal  tube  is  continuously  open. 

Hiatus  is  not  often  found  in  Latin  poetry,  and  even  when 
introduced,  one  or  more  of  the  following  circumstances 


38  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

generally  minimize  its  objectionable  character:  (1)  it  occurs 
after  a  monosyllabic  interjection  ;  (2)  after  a  Greek  word  ; 
(3)  coincides  with  a  caesura  somewhere  near  the  middle 
of  a  verse;  (4)  occurs  after  a  syllable  having  an  ictus, 
especially  a  syllable  containing  a  long  voweL 
Examples  of  the  foregoing  cases  are  : 

1.  6  et  praesidium  et  dulce  decus  meum  !  —  Hor.  Od.  i,  1,2. 

2.  posthabita  coluisse  Sawiu  hie  illius  arma.  —  Verg.  Aen.  i,  16. 

3.  quid  struit  aut  qua  ape  inimica  in  gente  moratur.  —  ib.  iv,  235. 

4.  The  preceding  example  illustrates  this  point  as  well. 


Instances  of  hiatus  in  the  first  six  books  of  the 
are:  i,  16;  405;  617;  hi,  74;   606;  iv,  235;   667;  v, 
735. 

7.  Diphthong  Resolution  (Dialysis).   Two  vowels  usu- 
ally forming  a  diphthong  were  sometimes  assigned  by  the 
poet  to  two  adjoining  spaces  of  a  foot,  and  so  separated 
into  two  syllables,  as  coepit  (Lucretius)  for  coe-pit.    In  any 
word  affected  by  this  usage  we  have  the  survival  of  an  old 
form. 

B 

8.  Archaic   Quantity,     (a)    A    syllable   is    sometimes 
found  containing  a  vowel  which  was  short  according  to 
the  usage  of  classical  times  but  long  in  an  earlier  age. 
Now  and  then  an  Augustan  poet  served  his  convenience 
by  using  such  a  syllable  with  its  archaic  length.    The  syl- 
lable was  generally  reenforced  by  an  ictus  and  often  too 
by  the  fact  that  a  pause  in  the  sense  immediately  fol- 
lowed.   For  example  : 

Pergama  cum  peteret  inconcessosque  hymenaeos. 

Verg.  Aen.  i,  651, 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  39 

the  last  vowel  of  peteret  being  usually  short  in  Vergil's 
time.  Words  with  the  ultima  long  according  to  this  prin- 
ciple are  found  in  the  ^Kneid,  i,  308;  651;  ii,  369;  v, 
521;  853;  vi,  768.  It  is  probable  that"  ancient  readers 
sometimes  produced  the  necessary  length  in  these  sylla- 
bles by  the  process  of  arrested  linking  (see  §  15  below). 

The  following  cases  also  are  to  be  explained  by  the  prin- 
ciple of  archaic  quantity,  namely,  when  mihl  is  used  for 
mihi,  tibl  for  tibi,  sibl  for  sibi,  ibl  for  ibi,  ubl  for  ubi,  rel  for 
rel,  orftdel  iorfidel,  the  second  in  each  pair  being  the  later 
form  and  during  the  classical  period  the  prevailing  usage. 

(b)  In  the  third  person  plural  of  the  perfect  indicative 
active  the  old  ending  -erunt,  which  in  classical  times  had 
not  yet  been  entirely  superseded  by  -erunt,  was  sometimes 
used  for  metrical  convenience,  as  for  example  in  the 
jEneid,  ii,  774;  iii,  48  ;  681. 

9.  Diminishing    Quantity.     Certain    words    contained 
vowels  which  were  long  in  the  classical  period  but  be- 
came regularly  short  at  a  later  time.    Inasmuch  as  the 
change  was  then  beginning  to  be  felt,  the  Augustan  poets 
sometimes  used  such  vowels  in  their  short  form.    For 
example,  unius  became  unius  in  the  JEiuid,  i,  41 ;  ii,  131 ; 
nfdlius  became  nullius  in  Hor.  Epist.  i,  1,  14;  Ep.  xvi,  61. 

10.  Unsettled  Quantities  in  Certain  Proper  Names.    In 
order  to  introduce  certain  proper  names  having  quantities 
inconsistent    with    his  meter,   a   poet    occasionally  took 
advantage  of  some  unsettled  pronunciation,  or  even  changed 
the  words  arbitrarily.    In  the  ^Eneid,  for  example,  Asiae 
stands  in  iii,  1,  but  Asia  in  vii,  701 ;  Diana  in  xi,  582,  but 
in  Diana  in  i,  499  ;  eois  in  ii,  417,  edds  hi  i,  489  ;  Itall  in 
iii,  396,  but  Itala  in  vii,  643 ;  Ldvlnia  in  i,  2,  but  Lawni 


40  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

in  i,  258 ;  Priaml  in  ii,  56,  but  Priamides  in  iii,  346 ;  Sicd- 
nos  in  v,  24,  but  Slcaniae  in  i,  557 ;  SldSnia  in  xi,  74, 
but  Sldonids  in  iv,  75 ;  Syckaeum  in  i,  348,  but  Sych<n'ii* 

in  i,  343. 

C 

11.  Vowel  Omission  (Syncope).    Once  in  a  great  while  a 
poet  shaped  a  word  to  his  meter  by  omitting  a  medial 
vowel  that  was  short  and  unaccented,  as  in  repostum 
(Aen.  i,  26),  used  instead  of  the  normal  form  repositmn, 
and  in  perlclum  (Aen.  ii,  709),  used  instead  of  perlculum. 

II.   Cases  Involving  Sounds  Variable  in  Character 

Certain  sounds  here  come  under  consideration  which 
are  to  be  classed  as  vowels  according  to  one  usage,  and 
as  consonants  according  to  another. 

12.  Vowel  Hardening.   The  vowel  i  or  u  was  sometimes 
made  consonantal  before  another  vowel:  as  db-ie-te  for 
a-bi-e-te.    Thus  the  poet  was  able  to  use  certain  winds 
that  otherwise  would  have  been  unavailable  in  his  verse. 
In  the  first  six  books  of  the  jflneid  cases  occur  as  fol- 
lows: i,  2;  73;  ii,  16;  442;  492;  iii,  136;  578;  iv,  126; 
168;  686;  v,  432 ;  589;  663;  697. 

13.  Consonant  Softening.    Conversely,  the  consonant  i 
or  u  was  sometimes  intended  by  the  poet  to  be  sounded  as 
a  vowel  before  another  vowel,  thus  giving  an  additional 
syllable :  as  si-lu-ae  (Hor.  Up.  xiii,  2)  for  sil-vae. 

III.   Cases  Involving  Consonants  Variable  in  Grouping 

Here  we  are  concerned  with  certain  consonants  of 
Roman  speech  that  usually  were  joined  to  vowels  in  one 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  41 

way,  but  sometimes  in  another.  The  subject  may  conven- 
iently be  considered  under  three  heads.  Under  A  are 
treated  instances  of  two  successive  consonants,  or  a  double 
consonant,  usually  uttered  within  a  single  metrical  space, 
but  sometimes  divided  between  two  successive  spaces. 
Under  B,  instances  of  a  single  liquid  or  s  (occurring 
between  vowels)  usually  joined  to  the  following  vowel, 
but  sometimes  uttered  partly  with  the  preceding  vowel 
and  partly  with  the  following  one.  Under  C,  instances  of 
a  single  final  consonant  (occurring  before  an  initial  vowel) 
usually  subject  to  the  process  of  linking,  but  sometimes 
not  allowed  to  amalgamate  with  the  following  word. 


14.  Divisible  Consonant  Groups,  (a)  Here  are  to  be 
classed  the  so-called  common  syllables,  which  may  be 
described  as  follows.  The  conditions  for  such  a  syllable 
were  a  succession  of  four  elements,  namely,  short  vowel, 
mute,  liquid,  vowel  (either  long  or  short);  secondly,  for 
such  a  group  only  a  few  special  combinations  of  mute  and 
liquid,  such  as  cl,  pi,  tl,  br,  cr,  gr,  pr,  tr,  were  made  valid 
by  usage ;  thirdly,  if  the  common  syllable  was  short  in  a 
given  passage,  the  syllabic  division  was  v-mlv  (v  =  vowel, 
m  =  mute,  I  =  liquid),  but  if  such  a  syllable  was  long,  the 
division  was  vm-lv.  Thus  patris  when  used  to  fill  out  the 
time  of  an  iambus  was  sounded  pa-tris,  but  when  used  to 
fill  out  a  spondee  it  became  pat-ris.1 

1  Evenit  ut  metrl  quoque  condiciO  mutet  accentum:  pecudes  plctae- 
que  volucres  ;  nam  volucres  media  acuta  legam,  quia,  ets!  natura  brevis, 
tamen  positiSne  longa  est,  ne  facial  iambum,  quern  nOn  recipit  versus 
herOus.  —  Quintilian,  i,  6,  28. 


42  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

The  following  verses  exhibit  common  syllables  used  in 
both  their  short  and  long  forms : 

adflictus  vltam  in  te-ne-bris  luctuque  trahebam. — Verg.  Aen.  ii,  92. 
noctem  hiememque  ferens  et  inhorruit  uuda  te-neft-ris. — ib.  iii,  195. 
Hyrtacidae  iuvenis  vo-/«-cres  diverberat  auras.  —  ib.  v,  503. 
cum  tacet  omnis  ager  pecudes  pictaeque  vo-/uc-r§s.  —  ib.  iv,  525. 
religione  sa-orae  et  saevi  formidine  Martis., —  ib.  vii,  608. 
effigies  sete-rae  divum  Phrygilque  Penates.  —  ib.  iii,  148. 
nfit  inn  ante  ora  pa-tris pat-rein  qul  obtruncat  ad  aras ib.  ii,  663. 

The  conditions  of  a  common  syllable  are  not  present  in 
d-crior  of  the  following  verse,  the  initial  vowel  being  long 
and  the  syllable  constant  in  form. 

acrior  ad  pugnam  redit  ac  vim  suscitat  Ira.  —  ib.  v,  454. 

Nor  are  they  present  in  compounds  like  ab-rumpo.  If 
the  prefix  terminated  with  a  short  vowel  and  a  mute,  the 
second  member  beginning  with  a  liquid  and  a  vowel,  the 
division  of  sounds  was  always  such  as  to  put  the  mute 
and  liquid  into  separate  syllables. 

(b)  Once  in  a  while  the  poet  placed  in  a  long  metrical 
space  the  final  syllable  of  a  word  ending  with  a  short 
vowel,  the  next  word,  however,  beginning  with  a  mute 
and  liquid,  or  s  and  another  consonant.  The  intention 
seems  to  have  been  in  such  cases  that  the  initial  conso- 
nant should  be  uttered  in  conjunction  with  the  preceding 
short  vowel,  thus  making  the  final  syllable  practically 
closed  and  therefore  long.  For  example : 

Cretes<?ue  Dryopesque  fremunt  pictique  Agathyrsl. 

Verg.  Aen.  iv,  146. 
Brontes^u«  Steropesque  et  nudus  membra  Pyracmon. 

ib.  viii,  425. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  43 

B 

15.  The  Continuable  Consonant.    The  poet  sometimes 
placed  in  a  long  metrical  space  a  syllable  ending  normally 
in  a  short  vowel,  the  next  syllable,  however,  beginning  with 
a  single  consonant  of  a  certain  kind,  chiefly,  a  liquid  or  s. 
The  intention  seems  to  have  been  that  the  reader  should 
join  the  said  consonant  with  both  the  preceding  and  the 
following  vowel.    Such  a  prolongation  of  these  particular 
consonants  is  possible  by  virtue  of  their  peculiar  nature. 
The  syllable  in  the   long  metrical   space   thus   became 
closed  and  therefore  long.    For  example : 

limina.que  /awrusque  del  totusque  mover!.  — Verg.  Aen.  iii,  91. 
Troas  reftquias  Danaum  atque  immitis  Achilll.  —  ib.  i,  30. 
dona  dehinc  auro  gravia  sectoque  elephanto.  —  ib.  iii,  464. 

The  sounds  -que  lau-  were  heard  somewhat  as  -quellau-, 
reli-  as  relli-,  and  -a  sec-  as  -assec-.  These  cases,  however, 
were  doubtless  open  to  another  treatment  at  the  pleasure  of 
a  reader ;  if  the  caesura  (see  page  46)  was  made  prominent, 
the  preceding  metrical  space  might  be  filled  partly  with 
the  vowel  (the  more  easily  because  it  had  an  ictus)  and 
partly  with  the  pause. 

C 

16.  Arrested  Linking.    The  poet  sometimes  placed  in  a 
long  metrical  space  the  final  syllable  of  a  word  ending  in 
a  single  consonant  preceded  by  a  short  vowel  and  followed 
in  the  next  word  by  an  initial  vowel.    In  fluent  reading 
such  a  consonant  would  normally  be  linked  in  sound  with 
the  following  initial  vowel  (see  page  29),  a  mode  of  utter- 
ance that  would  leave  the  final  syllable  open  and  short. 


44  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

Sometimes,  through  the  demands  of  meter,  the  consonant 
was  confined  to  the  preceding  word,  whose  final  syllable 
then  became  closed  and  therefore  long.  Such  a  syllable 
generally  had  an  ictus  and  often  too  was  followed  by  a 
pause  in  the  sense.  The  long  metrical  space  was  thus 
duly  filled  with  the  necessary  amount  of  sound.  For 
example : 

litora  iactefur  odils  lunonis  iniquae.  —  Verg.  A  en.  i,  668. 

See  also  ib.  i,  478;  ii,  411;  563;  iii,  112;  iv,  64;  222; 
v,  284;  337;  vi,  254. 

FEET 

Among  the  various  divisions  of  time  in  a  quantitative 
rhythm  the  unit,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  foot.  The  com- 
ponent parts  of  this  member  are  the  spaces  (of  time) 
already  described  (see  page  24).  Within  a  single  series 
feet  have  not  only  sameness,  or  at  least  similarity,  of 
make-up,'  but  equal  length  and  unity.  A  feature  which 
emphasizes  these  qualities  is  the  so-called  ictus,1  which  is 
a  slight  extra  stress  or  loudness  (much  milder  than  in 
English  verse)  given  systematically  to  a  certain  syllable 
of  the  foot.  Rhythmical  pauses  (page  10)  do  not  intervene 

1  An  ictus  involving  stress  seems  to  belong  to  Latin  verse  from  sev- 
eral lines  of  evidence,  but  especially  from  such  ancient  testimony  as 
the  following :  Cicero  (De  Or.  iii,  47,  182),  regarding  iambic  and  tri- 
brach feet  says,  "sed  sunt  Inslgngs  percussionSs  eSrum  numerorum." 
And  in  the  same  passage  (48,  185)  he  considers  a  certain  kind  of 
speech  rhythmical,  "quod  habet  quasdam  impressionSs  et  quod  mfitirl 
possumus  intervallis  aequalibus."  Quintilian  (ix,  4,  76)  says  of  a  tri- 
meter verse,  "sex  enim  pedes,  trfis  percussion£s  habet."  And  again 
(xi,  3,  108)  in  another  connection,  "sunt  quaedam  latentes  sermonis 
percussiones  et  quasi  aliqul  pedes."  And  again  (ix,  4,  136)  "[iambi] 
frequentiOrem  quasi  pulsum  habent." 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES 


45 


between  the  individual  feet  of  a  series,  the  transition  from 
one  foot  to  another  being  sufficiently  marked  by  their  recur- 
ring form.  The  name  thesis  (flecrt?,  down-beat)  is  applied 
to  that  space  of  a  foot  which  has  the  ictus,  the  remaining 
space  or  spaces  being  called  the  arsis  (apcns,  up-beat). 
When  the  arsis  precedes  the  thesis  in  a  foot  (as  in  the 
anapest),  the  rhythm  is  said  to  be  ascending ;  when  the 
reversed  order  appears  (as  in  the  dactyl),  it  is  descending. 
The  feet  commonly  used  in  Latin  poetry  are  shown  in 
the  following  table : 


Name  of  foot 

Total  length 
measured 
in   '  short 
spaces'  as 
units  of 
time 

Internal  time  relations 
(s.  =  '  space  ') 

Represented 

For 
example 

1  .    Trochee 

Three 

Long  s.  +  short  s. 

v^>    °r  _Lf 

ille 

2.  Iambus 

Three 

Short  s.  +  long  s. 

„_      or^J 

fero 

3.   Tribrach 

Three 

Short  s.  +  short  s. 
+  short  s. 

w  w  w  or    h  M^ 
999 

itaque 

4.  Dactyl 

Four 

Long  s.  +  short  s. 
+  short  s. 

w  w  or    1  _M** 
999 

denique 

5.  Anapest 

Four 

Short  s.  +  short  s. 
+  long  s. 

w  w      or    N  M 

««* 

dubito 

6.  Spondee 

Four 

Long  s.+long  s. 

—  orJJ 

vero 

Other  feet  are  the  diiamb  ¥.  —  ^—,  the  ditrochee  _^_^-, 

the  choriamb  _ww_,  the  Ionic  a  maiore w,  the 

Ionic  a  minore  ^^ ,  the  antispast  ^ ^,  the  Cretic 

_ w_,  the  Bacchius  ^ ,  the  Molossus ,  the  first 

paeon  _www,  the  fourth  paeon  ww^>_,  and  the  proceleus- 
matic  v^w^w. 


46  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

As  a  rule,  a  poet  avoids  making  successive  words  each 
coincide  with  successive  feet  in  the  opening  and  middle 
parts  of  a  verse.  When  a  word  and  a  foot  end  coinciden- 
tally,  the  resulting  break  in  the  rhythm  is  called  a  diceresis, 
but  when  a  word  ends  within  a  foot,  the  break  is  called  a 
caesura.  Caesuras  tend  to  occur  more  often  than  diaereses, 
especially  in  the  opening  and  middle  parts  of  a  verse. 
A  masculine  caesura,  so  called  from  its  strong  and  firm 
sound  effect,  is  one  occurring  between  a  thesis  and  an 
arsis.  A.  feminine  caesura,  with  its  light  and  rapid  effect,  is 
one  occurring  within  an  arsis.  A  caesura  is  called  trithe- 
mimeral,  penthemimeral,  or  hepthemimeral  according  as  it 
occurs  after  the  third,  fifth,  or  seventh  half-foot  of  a  verse. 

As  the  feet  of  a  rhythm  succeed  one  another  they  tend 
to  fall  into  groups  marking  other  divisions  of  time  whi<-h 
have  greater  and  greater  amplitudes.  Each  division  has 
its  own  unity,  which,  however,  is  not  dominant  enough 
to  do  away  with  the  more  comprehensive  unity  of  the 
next  higher  division.  The  colon  is  composed  of  feet  and 
the  verse  of  cola.  Out  of  verses,  themselves  sometimes 
combined  into  strophes,  springs  the  poem. 

COLA 

A  colon  is  a  rhythmical  division  arising  from  a  regular 
grouping  of  feet.  The  number  of  feet  included  in  each 
colon  varies  with  different  rhythms  but  hi  any  case  it  is 
not  less  than  two  nor  more  than  six.  These  limits  depend 
on  the  amount  of  speech  that  can  be  uttered  comfortably 
without  taking  breath,  on  the  range  of  sounds  that  makes 
an  agreeable  phrase  (hi  the  musical  sense),  and  on  other 
conditions  of  the  human  ear  and  voice.  The  unity  of  a 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  47 

colon  is  signalized  sometimes  by  rhythmical  pauses  that 
precede  and  follow  it  (see  I,  page  10),  always  by  the  fact 
that  one  of  the  ictuses  within  it  is  made  prominent  above 
the  others.  In  trochaic  or  iambic  rhythm  a  colon  may 
have  six  feet,  but  in  dactylic  or  anapestic  rhythm  it  may 
not  extend  beyond  five.  The  dactylic  hexameter,  which 
exceeds  the  limits  of  a  single  colon,  is  thought  to  have 
arisen  from  the  union  of  two  cola,  each  containing  three 
feet.  GTreek  poetry  now  and  then  shows  an  hexameter  in 
which  the  opening  colon  seems  to  embrace  four  feet  and 
the  other  colon  two  feet.  This  type,  however,  is  rare  in 
Latin  and  may  here  be  neglected. 

VERSES 

But  a  succession  of  feet  freed  from  a  certain  monotony 
by  being  grouped  into  successive  cola  does  not  completely 
satisfy  the  poet's  feeling.  Still  other  modes  of  grouping  are 
necessary.  Accordingly,  to  obviate  fatigue  as  much  as 
possible  for  the  reader  or  singer,  to  increase  the  effect  of 
variety,  to  bring  about  a  still  more  pleasing  and  artistic 
form,  cola  in  their  turn  are  combined  into  verses.  The 
length  of  a  verse  is  determined  by  certain  limitations  in 
man's  powers,  in  particular  by  the  extent  of  sustained  effort 
that  is  natural  to  the  ear  and  voice.  Accordingly,  the 
number  of  cola  belonging  to  a  verse  is  one,  two,  or  three ; 
in  most  rhythms,  as  in  the  dactylic  hexameter,  two.  A 
verse  is  generally  written  as  a  separate  line  on  the  page, 
in  keeping  with  the  derivation  of  its  name  from  versus, 
a  turning. 

In  some  rhythms  an  ancient  reader  seems  to  have  felt 
the  feet  singly,  while  in  others  they  ran  in  pairs.  Hence 


48  CLASSICAL  LATIN   POETRY 

the  length  of  a  verse  is  indicated  in  two  ways.  The  measure 
employed  in  iambic,  trochaic,  and  anapestic  rhythms  con- 
sists of  two  feet,  or  a  dipody.  An  iambic  dimeter,  for 
example,  is  two  measures  long  but  has  four  feet.  In  other 
rhythms  the  measure  consists  of  a  single  foot.  A  dactylic 
hexameter  is  six  measures  long  and  has  six  feet. 

The  complete  name  of  a  verse  generally  involves  (1)  an 
adjective  showing  the  kind  of  feet  it  contains  —  if  these 
vary  the  adjective  should  describe  the  fundamental  foot; 
(2)  a  noun  denoting  the  length  of  the  verse ;  and  (3)  an 
adjective  describing  the  conclusion  of  the  verse,  namely, 
acatalectic  if  the  final  foot  is  complete,  catalectic  if  the 
latter  part  of  it  is  wanting.  In  case  the  third  part  of  the 
name  is  not  expressed,  it  is  understood  to  be  acatalectic. 
A  dactylic  hexameter,  then,  is  a  verse  whose  fundamental 
feet  are  dactyls,  whose  length  is  six  measures,  indicat- 
ing six  feet,  and  whose  last  foot  is  complete.  An  iambic 
trimeter  catalectic  has  the  iambus  as  its  fundamental  foot, 
has  three  measures  and  six  feet,  the  last  one  being  incom- 
plete. For  example : 

vocatus  atque  non  vocatus  audit Hor.  Od.  ii,  18,  40. 

There  remain  to  be  considered  several  other  matters 
pertaining  to  the  form  and  character  of  the  rhythmical 
division  now  under  discussion.  While  it  is  true  that  the 
verses  of  a  poem  are  intended  to  succeed  one  another  in 
compact  and  closely  connected  series,  still  no  mode  of 
iv;  11  ling  is  justifiable  that  fails  to  allow  each  verse  to  111:1  kc 
its  complete  and  individual  impression.  Thus  there  arises 
an  important  use  of  the  rhythmical  pause  (see  page  10). 
Aside  from  the  rare  and  exceptional  conditions  described 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  49 

in  §3  on  page  36,  such  a  pause  is  uniformly  to  be  observed 
at  the  close  of  a  verse ;  moreover,  this  holds  even  when 
the  sense  at  that  point  does  not  require  a  stop. 

The  fact  that  rhythmical  pauses  intervene  between 
verses,  and  that  in  general  one's  rhythmical  sense  does 
not  measure  exactly  the  final  sound  in  a  series,  makes  it 
unnecessary  always  to  fill  out  the  last  metrical  space  of 
a  verse  with  the  precise  length  of  sound  that  theoretically 
belongs  within  it.  Thus  a  certain  elasticity  in  the  length 
of  the  syllable  is  permitted  at  that  point,  and  yet  the  time 
relations  of  the  rhythm  as  a  whole  are  kept  sufficiently 
true.  To  this  syllable  of  indifferent  length,  standing  within 
a  final  metrical  space  of  a  verse,  is  given  the  name  syllaba 
anceps.  This  final  syllable  is  also  responsible  for  another 
sound  effect  permitted  between  verses  but  generally  avoided 
within  a  verse.  That  is,  the  poet  is  at  liberty  to  end  one 
verse  with  a  vowel,  or  a  vowel  +  m,  and  to  begin  the  next 
with  a  vowel,  or  h  +  a  vowel.  This  is  called  inter-verse 
hiatus. 

A  verse,  except  it  be  one  of  very  limited  range,  is  regu- 
larly so  composed  that  a  reader,  without  doing  violence  to 
the  sense  or  the  rhythm,  may  pause  for  an  instant  in  the 
midst  of  its  course.  There  results  a  feature  which  con- 
tributes at  once  to  variety  of  effect  and  ease  of  delivery. 
In  some  types  the  pause  occurs  at  a  diaeresis.  An  example 
is  the  dactylic  pentameter ;  here  the  two  phrases  of  sound 
that  result  from  the  division  coincide  with  the  two  cola 
that  constitute  the  verse.  In  other  types  —  and  now  we 
come  upon  a  very  numerous  class  —  the  pause  occurs  at 
a  caesura.  An  example  is  the  dactylic  hexameter;  the 
poet  is  here  bound  to  make  the  arrangement  of  words 


50  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

consistent  with  a  pause  in  the  third  or  fourth  foot,  the 
resulting  phrases  of  sound  falling  slightly  at  variance  with 
the  two  cola  of  the  verse. 

GROUPS  OF  VERSES 

A  Latin  poem  involves  either  verses  of  a  single  kind 
arranged  in  series  of  indefinite  length,  as  in  the  JSneid, 
or  verses  of  different  kinds  arranged  in  series  of  definite 
length,  as  in  many  Odes  of  Horace.  In  the  first  instance 
the  arrangement  is  said  to  be  stichic,  in  the  second  the 
verses  are  arranged  in  strophes  or  stanzas. 


PART  II.    THE  DACTYLIC  HEXAMETER 
AND  PENTAMETER 

Two  kinds  of  feet  are  involved  in  these  types  of  verse : 
the  dactyl  (-^-ww)  and  its  metrical  equivalent  the  spondee 
(— — ).  The  fundamental  foot  is  the  dactyl,  for  which, 
however,  the  spondee  is  very  often  substituted.  In  the 
d2neid  dactyls  stand  to  spondees  in  about  the  ratio  of 
thirteen  to  eleven. 

I.  THE  DACTYLIC  HEXAMETER 

Scheme :  -Lw  \  -Z-co  |  J-^  \  -L^  \  J-t— ?  \  -L^. 

The  rhythm  is  illustrated  by  the  following  selection,  in 
which  syllables  having  the  ictus  are  marked  underneath 
by  dots. 

Arma  virumque  cano,  Troiae  qui  primus  ab  oris 
Italiam,  fato  profugus,  Lavlniaque  venit 
litora,  multum  ille  et  terris  iactatus  et  alto 
vi  superum  saevae  memorem  lunonis  ob  Iram ; 
multa  quoque  et  bello  passus,  dum  conderet  urbem 
inferretque  deos  Latio,  genus  unde  Latinum 
Albanlque  patres  atque  altae  moenia  Romae. 

Musa,  mihl  causas  memora,  quo  numine  laeso 
quidve  dolens,  reglna  deum  tot  volvere  casus 
insignem  pietate  virum,  tot  adire  labores 
impulerit.    Tantaene  animis  caelestibus  irae  ? 

Verg.  Aen.  i,  1-11. 
51 


52 


CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 


Sll 

•_  ^-.; 

O5 

T* 

l>-    05 

X 

O) 

•* 

05 

co  oo 

00     ^H 

~, 

^l 

~  ^  "*^ 

O 

Ol 

01    0 

eo 

S 

l>-      *^ 

^      1  — 

Jl| 

01 

eo 

Ol    0 

— 

~ 

i-H 

10    0 

CO    ^ 
i-H 

8 

-^ii.n  "l 
feet 

1 

00 

13 
13 

1 

13 

00     00 

—    ~ 
^3     =2 

31 

/      rQ 

00 

~ 
— 
oo 
13 
13 

•V 

T3 
13 

oo 

T3 
i 

00 

— 
I 

_z 

o;     co 

x    *^ 

'O     oe 

i-Q      CO 
CO     *^ 

CO      00 

^3    t3 

-T        '-f- 

73    13 
ob    13 

CO 

•/; 

~ 
/. 

1 

~ 
y. 

^ 

X 

K« 

,a 

-u 

a 

9 

a 

CO 

o 

00 

a 

cS 

i 

-e 

1 

i~ 

'3' 

K/\ 

,1. 

• 

§ 

I'll-,'  A/r/y.v 
ant  ani'mos  et  i'nania  '  miirmura  '  mi 

Four  Dactyls 
i'gns  sum'ma  placi'dum  capu't  extuli 

gravi'ora  da  bit  deu  s  his  quoque  '  f  I 
i  '  vos  gene'ris  tenu'it  fi'ducia  '  vestrl 

5. 

j= 

d 
— 
hi 

"aS 

= 
— 

1 
«' 

O 

•e 

«*-! 

O> 
|. 

tri'bus  popu'loque  pe'natibu's  et  maj 

r/ij-ce  Dactyls 
um  re'gina  iu'bes  reno'vare  do'lorem 

li'hl  cau'sas  memo  ra  quo  '  numine  '  1 

;Is  preci'busque  iu'bent  ex'poscere  '  p 
amma  to  se'cum  dea  '  corde  vo'lutans 

tra  auguri'um  va'ni  docu'ere  pa'rentt 
'ro  pate'r  Afiu"  a>  -i  o  OtVU  a  1)  alto 

1 

0 

_i.  • 

10) 

-4J 

•/. 

i- 

i 

'E- 

i 

«»-l 

'C' 

i 

Crustiiiiic  nijiif  ft  turri^erae  An'te 

JU 

o 

jp'     Q 

83 

13 

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DACTYLIC  HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER      53 


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54  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 


These  twenty-five  examples  from  the  jEtniil  exhibit 
many  characteristics  of  the  verse  under  consideration. 
The  dactylic  hexameter  consists  of  two  cola  having  three 
feet  each.  Within  perpendicular  lines  are  represented 
the  sounds  that  measure  off  the  several  feet.  Column  .s' 
gives  the  succession  of  dactyls  and  spondees  in  em  -h  rase  : 
column  JVthe  number  of  verses  hi  the  jflneid  having  the 
given  succession,  thus  showing  the  favor  it  enjoyed. 

The  first  foot,  it  will  be  seen,  may  be  either  a  dactyl  or 
a  spondee.  The  same  is  true  of  the  second,  third,  and 
fourth  feet.  In  fact  the  same  is  true  of  the  fifth  foot,  i>ut 
with  an  important  difference  of  degree  ;  for,  by  reference 
to  column  N,  it  becomes  evident  that  a  spondee  in  that 
place  is  extremely  rare.  When  a  spondee  is  so  placed, 
the  line  is  called  a  spondaic  verse.  The  final  foot  is 
measured  in  every  case  by  means  of  two  syllables.  In 
most  instances  both  are  long  and  we  have  a  normal 
spondee.  This  is  the  case  not  only  in  examples  1  and  '2 
but  also  hi  3  and  17,  a  closed  syllable  being  long.  In 
some  instances,  like  example  18,  the  first  syllable  is  long 
and  the  second  short.  The  presence  of  such  a  final  syllable 
is  to  be  explained  on  the  principle  of  the  syllaba  anceps 
as  set  forth  on  page  49. 

The  end  of  any  long  verse  is  naturally  marked  by  a 
certain  closing  cadence.  This  fact  helps  to  explain  several 
features  in  the  structure  of  the  dactylic  hexameter:  (") 
the  last  two  feet  are  fixed  in  kind  and  arrangement,  —  a 
dactyl  and  a  spondee,  the  more  tranquil  foot  coming  last  ; 
(b)  the  words  falling  within  these  feet  are,  as  a  rule,  either 
dissyllabic  or  trisyllabic;  (c)  ictus  and  word  accent  here 
usually  coincide  —  in  the  main  a  natural  result  of  the 


DACTYLIC  HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER     55 

two  foregoing  conditions,  and  yet  one  that  comes  to  be 
enjoyed  along  with  effects  that  the  poet  has  attained  in  a 
more  conscious  and  deliberate  way.  By  way  of  contrast 
the  other  part  of  the  verse  has  the  following  effects: 
the  first  four  feet  have  no  uniform  arrangement;  the 
words  within  those  limits  vary  widely  in  length;  ictus 
and  word  accent  may  or  may  not  coincide,  the  poet's  pref- 
erence being  to  have  them  fall  separately. 

A  monosyllable  rarely  stands  at  the  end  of  the  verse. 
Such  a  word  in  that  position  is  likely  to  be  enclitic; 
moreover  its  abrupt  effect  is  often  further  softened  by 
another  monosyllable  occurring  in  the  same  foot,  as  in 

prospectum  late  pelago  petit  Anthea  si  quern. — Verg.  Aen.  i,  181. 

The  poet,  however,  sometimes  departs  from  this  usage  when 
he  wishes  to  produce  an  impressive  (Aen.  i,  6 5, and  example  6 
hi  the  table  above)  or  surprising  effect.  Horace's  verse, 

parturient  inontes,  nascetur  ridiculus  mus.  — A. P.  139, 

conveys  its  ludicrous  surprise  in  part  by  its  rhythmical 

form,  and  Vergil's 

quae  vigilanda  viris  vel  cum  ruit  imbriferum  ver.  —  G.  i,  313, 

has  an  unexpected  close  that  comes  over  one  very  much 
like  the  thing  he  is  mentioning,  spring  showers. 

It  is  rare  to  find  at  the  end  of  a  verse  a  word  of  five 
syllables,  still  more  so  one  of  four  syllables.  Spondaic 
verses,  however,  in  conformity  with  a  usage  set  in  Alex- 
andrine Greek  poetry,  rarely  end  with  a  trisyllable,  almost 
never  with  a  dissyllable,  but  normally  with  a  quadrisyl- 
lable (and  this  word  is  often  a  proper  noun  or  proper 


56  CLASSICAL  LATIN   POETRY 

adjective).  "  Spondaic  verses  are  comparatively  rare  in 
Ennius  and  Lucretius,  but  become  more  frequent  in 
Catullus  [a  mark  of  Ms  fondness  for  Alexandrine  poetry]. 
They  are  not  common  in  Vergil,  Horace,  Propertius,  and 
Ovid,  and  do  not  occur  at  all  in  Tibullus.  Persius  has  one 
spondaic  verse,  Valerius  Flaccus  one,  Claudian  five,  Silius 
Italicus  six,  Statius  seven."  —  Lane,  Latin  Grammar,  2567. 
Many  dactyls  in  a  verse  give  the  effect  of  lightness  or 
rapid  motion,  as  in 

quadrupedante  putrem  sonitu  quatit  ungula  campum. 

Verg.  Aen.  viii,  596. 

Many  spondees,  on  the  other  hand,  give  the  effect  of 
solemnity  or  slow  motion,  as  in 

vultu  quo  caelum  tempestatesque  serenat.  —  ib.  i,  255. 

The  first  four  feet  of  the  verse  are  normally  composed 
in  such  a  way  that  caesuras  outnumber  diaereses.  Should 
diaereses  be  in  excess,  the  limits  of  the  feet  would  be  too 
sharply  defined  ;  the  structure  would  be  thrown  into  too 
bold  a  relief;  and  the  verse  would  lack  variety,  fluency, 
and  musical  quality,  as  in  the  following  example  : 

sparsis  hastis  longis  campus  splendet  et  horret. 

Ennius,  Fragm.  Varia,  14  (Vahlen). 

Caesuras,  as  appears  in  the  table  of  examples,  are  found 
in  all  parts  of  the  verse.  Such  a  break  occurs  nearly 
always  in  the  third  or  fourth  foot,  but  very  infrequently  in 
the  sixth.  This  treatment  results  from  a  feeling  that  any 
verse  having  considerable  range  can  not  be  agreeably  read 
as  a  single  movement,  unbroken  and  evenly  sustained.1 


1  IncIsiSngs  etiam  versuum,  quas  Graecl  ro/iij  vocant,  ante  omnia 
in  hexametrO  necessariO  observandae  sunt.  —  Marius  Victorinus,  i,  19. 


DACTYLIC   HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER      57 

Hence,  the  dactylic  hexameter  is  composed  of  two  parts, 
each  signalized  by  containing  a  more  or  less  compact  group 
of  words.  The  break  between  these  parts  gives  a  reader  an 
opportunity  to  take  breath.  Since  a  diaeresis  employed  for 
this  purpose  would  impair  the  rhythmical  flow  of  the  verse 
as  a  whole,  this  break  is  normally  a  caesura.  It  is  distin- 
guished from  other  caesuras  by  the  name  main  caesura.  It 
is  usually  located  at  the  middle  of  the  third  foot,  in  which 
case  it  is  called  a  penthemimeral  caesura ;  less  often  it  occurs 
at  the  middle  of  the  fourth  foot  and  receives  the  name 
hepthemimeral  caesura.  Within  the  second  part  of  the  verse 
an  opportunity  to  take  breath  is  sometimes  offered  between 
the  fourth  and  fifth  feet.  Such  a  break  is  called  a  bucolic 
diceresis,  because  of  its  rather  frequent  use  among  Greek 
bucolic  poets.  It  is  rare  among  Latin  poets,  except  Juvenal. 
When  it  does  occur,  it  is  generally  secondary  in  importance 
to  a  caesura  in  the  second  or  third  foot  of  the  verse,  as  in 

Ite  domum  saturae,  venit  Hesperus,  ite  capellae. — Verg.  E.  x,  77. 

The  frequent  use  of  the  penthemimeral  caesura  is  fur- 
ther explained  by  the  poet's  desire  to  build  the  verse  of 
two  parts,  a  shorter  followed  by  a  longer.  The  reversed 
order  (brought  about,  for  example,  by  the  hepthemimeral 
caesura),  if  often  repeated,  would  be  less  happy.  Even 
artistic  Latin  prose  is  subject  to  much  the  same  law.  In 
discussing  the  characteristics  of  the  period  Cicero  says 
(De  Oratore,  in,  48,  186)  that  the  effect  is  most  agreeable 
when  shorter  word  groups  are  followed  by  longer. 

Elision  is  freely  admitted  into  the  hexameter  by  clas- 
sical poets,  especially  by  Vergil,  and  is  most  common 
within  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  feet. 


58  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

The  hexameter  exhibits  almost  endless  variety.  For 
example,  the  character  of  the  feet  and  the  range  of  the 
verse  often  allow  repeated  expressions  to  receive  different 
metrical  treatment,  as  in  the  following  instances : 

primus  humum  fodito  primiis  devecta  cremate.  — Verg.  G.  ii,  408. 
mlrantur  dona  Aeneae  mlrantur  luliuu.  —  id.  Aen.  i,  709. 
multa  super  Priamo  rogitans  super  Hectore  multa.  —  ib.  i,  750. 

To  take  another  feature,  the  verses  constantly  undergo 
changes  of  form,  resulting  partly  from  the  various  arrange- 
ments of  the  included  dactyls  and  spondees,  partly  from 
the  shifting  main  caesuras,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  may 
assume  several  different  positions.  Again,  variety  springs 
from  the  great  flexibility  of  the  first  four  feet  of  the  verse 
as  contrasted  with  the  final  two:  within  the  former 
portion  a  free  arrangement  of  dactyls  and  spondees  is 
followed  within  the  latter  by  a  fixed  and  orderly  arrange- 
ment ;  a  varied  location  of  word  accent  with  reference  to 
ictus  is  followed  by  a  conjoining  of  these  elements ;  words 
widely  diverse  hi  length  are  followed  by  words  of  fairly 
uniform  length ;  a  somewhat  free  use  of  elision  is  followed 
by  a  less  free  use.  After  the  first  four  feet  with  their 
individual  qualities,  the  ear  finds  a  peculiar  rest  and 
pleasure  hi  the  last  two  with  their  uniform  sequence, 
their  tranquil  word  lengths,  their  united  ictuses  and  word 
accents,  and  their  subsiding  cadence.  Each  part  freshens 
the  ear  and  mind  for  a  renewed  enjoyment  of  the  other, 
and  yet  the  two  are  sufficiently  homogeneous  so  that  the 
unity  of  the  verse  is  not  lost. 

Among  the  Greeks  and  Romans  the  dactylic  hexameter 
verse  became  a  favorite  form  for  poetic  expression.  From 


DACTYLIC   HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER      59 

the  Homeric  period  down  to  the  Middle  Ages  man  com- 
mitted to  its  cadences  much  of  his  most  inspired  thought. 
Of  this  the  choicest  portion  has  happily  escaped  neglect, 
one  generation  cherishing  its  heritage  for  the  next,  in  the 
earliest  tunes  by  the  power  of  memory,  later  by  the 
written  or  printed  page,  until  at  last  it  has  come  into  our 
hands.  Wonderfully  impressive  are  the  associations  of  this 
world-old  world-wide  song. 

II.   THE   DACTYLIC   PENTAMETER 

The -name  pentameter,  though  brought  into  use  by  the 
ancients  themselves,  hardly  gives  a  correct  impression  of 
the  verse,  which  has  two  cola  of  equal  length  and  seems 
to  be  a  hexameter  with  the  third  and  sixth  feet  modified. 
For  purposes  of  reading,  the  normal  scheme  was : 

_!o^  |  -£-Ow  |  -£- A   \  -Lw  |  -Lwv/  I  w  A 

When,  however,  this  verse  was  employed  in  song,  the 
syllables  within  the  third  and  sixth  feet  naturally  were 
affected  by  protraction  and  became  tetrasemic,  thus  filling 
the  divisions  entirely  with  sound.  Under  these  conditions 
no  pause  (  A  )  was  required.  A  reader  was  always  at  liberty 
to  treat  the  feet  in  a  similar  manner.1 

Tliis  verse  alternates  with  the  dactylic  hexameter,  thus 
forming  the  elegiac  strophe.  The  following  illustration  is 
from  Ovid  (Fasti,  i,  1-10) : 

Tempora  cum  causis  Latium  digesta  per  annum 
lapsaque  sub  terras  ortaque  signa  canam. 

Excipe  pacato,  Caesar  Germanice,  vultu 
hoc  opus,  et  timidae  dirige  navis  iter; 

1  See  Allen  and  Greenough,  New  Latin  Grammar,  616,  b. 


60  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

officioque,  levem  non  aversatus  honoretn, 
huic  tibi  devoto  numine  dexter  ades. 

Sacra  recognosces  annalibus  eruta  priscls, 
et  quo  sit  merito  quaeque  notata  dif-s. 

Invenies  illic  et  festa  domestica  vobls  ; 

saepe  tibi  pater  est,  saepe  legend  us  avus. 

Tlie  scheme,  then,  for  the  strophe  as  a  whole  is 


In  the  first  colon  spondees  may  take  the  place  of  dac- 
tyls. Unlike  the  dactylic  hexameter,  this  verse  allows  a 
reader  to  pause  for  breath  at  the  diaeresis  between  the  cola. 
As  a  rule,  the  concluding  word  of  the  second  colon  in 
Ovid  is  a  dissyllable.  The  word  lengths  of  the  first  colon 
are  usually  made  to  differ  from  those  of  the  second  colon. 
The  halves  of  the  verse  are  sometimes  bound  together  by 
two  similar  sounds  falling  one  in  the  first  colon  and  the 
other  at  a  corresponding  point  in  the  second  colon,  as 

Hbera  perpetucls  ambulat  ilia  vios.  —  ib.  i,  122. 
/«dit  et  in  pratls  fwxuriatque  pecus.  —  ib.  i,  156. 

The  same  end  is  often  attained  by  chiasmus  or  some  other 
rhetorical  figure  whose  elements  fall  partly  in  the  first 
and  partly  in  the  second  colon,  as  in 

officiumve  forl  militiaeve  labor.  —  ib.  i,  302. 
summaque  Peliacus  sidera  tangat  apex  --  16,  i,  •'><)«. 

The  elegiac  strophe  was  both  imitated  and  described  by 
Schiller  in  the  following  lines  : 

Im  Hexameter  steigt  des  Springquells  fliissige  Saule, 
Iin  Pentameter  drauf  fallt  sie  melodisch  herab. 


DACTYLIC  HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER      61 

This  couplet  was  turned  into  English  by  Coleridge  in  his 
Ovidian  Elegiac  Meter : 

In  the  hexameter  rises  the  fountain's  silvery  column, 
In  the  pentameter  aye  falling  in  melody  back. 

Tennyson  afterwards  recast  the  same  with  a  view  of  illus- 
trating more  accurately  the  relations  of  ictus  and  word 
accent : 

Up  springs  hexameter  with  might,  as  a  fountain  arising, 
Lightly  the  fountain  falls,  lightly  the  pentameter. 

As  here  observed,  the  pentameter  is  by  nature  a  clausula 
and  the  sense  is  likely  to  be  completed  at  the  end  of  each 
couplet.  Hence  elegiac  poetry  abounds  in  rapid,  epigram- 
matic thought. 

Who  invented  this  form  of  verse  we  can  not  say,  any 
more  than  could  Horace  in  his  time : 

quis  tarn  en  exiguos  elegos  emlserit  auctor, 

grammatici  certant  et  adhuc  sub  iudice  lis  est — A  .P.  77-78. 

Three  periods,  however,  of  full  bloom  may  be  traced  in  the 
long  unbroken  favor  that  it  has  enjoyed :  the  Ionic  elegy 
of  the  seventh  and  sixth  centuries  before  Christ,  marked 
by  Callinus,  Tyrtseus,  Mimnermus,  Solon,  Phocylides, 
Theognis,  Xenophanes,  Sirnonides  of  Amorgus,  and  others  ; 
the  Alexandrine  elegy  of  the  third  century,  marked  by 
Callimachus,  Philetas,  Eratosthenes,  Parthenius,  and 
others;  the  Roman  elegy,  marked  by  Catullus,  Tibullus, 
Propertius,  Ovid,  Martial,  and  others. 


62  CLASSICAL  LATIN   POETRY 

PKACTICAL   HINTS   ON   BEADING   LATIN 
POETRY 

1.  Read  aloud  constantly,  striving  to  grasp  and  express 

the  meaning. 

2.  Do  not  drop  the  voice  at  the  end  of  a  verse,  unless 

the  sense  requires  it. 

3.  Let  the  words  fall  into  their  proper  sense  groups. 

4.  The  play  of  intonation  should  be  in  keeping  with 

the  thought.  Let  the  voice  take  up  the  emphasis 
implied  in  prominently  situated  words,  separation 
of  nouns  from  modifiers,  antitheses,  and  correlated 
expressions. 

5.  The  word   accent,  involving  increased   stress   and 

raised  pitch,1  should  be  sounded  lightly. 

6.  The   ictus,   involving    increased   stress,   should   be 

lighter  than  the  beat  in  English  verse.  The 
rhythm  is  not  largely  dependent  upon  it,  being 
produced  mainly  by  syllabic  quantities.  "\Vunl 
accent  is  a  means  of  pointing  the  thought,  and  t<> 
that  extent  is  free,  while  ictus  points  the  rhythm, 
and  so  is  bound.  They  are  related  as  content  is  to 
form. 

7.  Utter  words  in  such  a  way  that  a  hearer  may  be  left 

in  no  doubt  as  to  the  form  and  duration  of  each 
syllable.  From  the  very  outset  the  student  should 
be  accustomed  to  a  consistent  pronunciation  of  the 
Latin  language,  syllables  being  distinct  and  time 
values  true.  With  this  kind  of  training  he  will 

1  W.  M.  Lindsay,  The  Latin  Language,  page  152;  R.  S.  Radford, 
44  Studies  in  Latin  Accent  and  Metric,"  Trans.  Am.  Phil.  Assoc.,  1904. 


DACTYLIC   HEXAMETER  AND  PENTAMETER      63 

pass  naturally  and  easily  from  prose  to  poetry. 
He  will  speak  the  words  of  a  verse  in  the  ordinary 
way  and  the  rhythm  will  come  largely  unbidden. 
The  proper  time  values  of  Latin  words  may  be 
illustrated  as  follows :  pater  has  the  same  duration 
as  the  last  two  syllables  of  luppiter;  itaque  the 
same  as  the  last  three  syllables  of  peremptorily; 
similarly  quln  =  cease,  amo  =  meadow  (if  we  may 
change  the  pronunciation  slightly  and  sound  it 
me'-do],  prlml  =  seesaw,  amlci  =  a  May  Day,  rece- 
perunt  =  a  low  rowboat. 

8.  Make  the  quantities  determine  the  rhythm,  and  not 

the  rhythm  the  quantities.  The  only  situations  in 
which  the  rhythm  should  be  relied  upon  to  deter- 
mine the  quantity  are  in  the  "  variable  syllables  " 
(see  pages  32  f.). 

9.  Do  not  overdo  the  rhythm.     It  is  only  an  accom- 

paniment (see  page  21). 

10.  Eead  dactylic  hexameter  and  pentameter  verse  in 

£  time,  and  not  as  students  are  often  prone  to  do 
in  |  time. 

11.  Eead   hi  a  somewhat   measured,   flowing   manner. 

Poetry  has  more  of  a  singing  quality  than  prose.1 

1  Quintilian  (i,  8,  1-2)  has  the  following  to  say  about  reading 
poetry :  "  In  this  matter  it  is  impossible,  except  in  the  course  of 
practice  itself,  to  teach  a  boy  to  know  where  he  should  check  his 
breath,  where  he  should  divide  a  verse,  where  one  thought  ends  and 
another  begins,  where  the  voice  should  be  raised  or  lowered,  what 
intonation  belongs  to  each  part,  what  should  be  uttered  quickly  and 
what  slowly,  what  in  an  impassioned  manner  and  what  calmly.  There 
is  then  but  one  thing  that  I  can  lay  down  on  this  subject,  namely  : 
if  he  Is  to  be  able  to  do  all  these  things,  let  him  understand  the 


64  CLASSICAL  LATIN  POETRY 

12.  Commit  to  memory  favorite  passages  and  recite 
them  until  they  convey  the  spirit  of  the  literature. 

subject-matter.  Furthermore,  his  reading  should  be  vigorous.  It 
should  combine  dignity  with  a  certain  pleasant  appeal  to  the  senses. 
Reading  poetry  should  differ  from  reading  prose,  for  the  former  is 
song  and  the  poets  say  they  sing ;  on  the  other  hand,  it  should  not 
degenerate  into  singsong  or  be  weakened,  as  is  now  the  case  with 
many  people,  by  an  affected  modulation  of  the  voice.  There  is  a  tra- 
dition that  some  one  was  once  rendering  a  poem  in  this  extreme  style 
and  that  Gaius  Caesar,  then  a  boy,  addressed  to  him  a  very  happy 
remark,  saying:  '  If  you  are  singing,  you  sing  badly ;  but  if  you  think 
you  are  reading,  the  fact  remains  that  you  sing.'  " 


INDEX 


acatalectic,  48 
alliteration,  2;  13;  21 
arsis,  45 
assonance,  13 ;  21 

caesura,  11;   40;   49;  56;   main, 

57;  58 

catalectic,  48 
clausula,  61 
colon,  46  ;  54  ;  69 ;  60 
consonant,  23 ;   between  vowels, 

28  ;     groups,    30  f . ;     40 ;     41 ; 

softening,  40 
correlated  expressions,  16 

dactylic  verse,    hexameter,    49 ; 

51  f . ;  pentameter,  49 ;  69  f . 
diaeresis,  11 ;  46;  49;  56  ;  bucolic, 

57 

dialysis,  38 

diphthong,  23;  resolution,  38 
duosemic,  25 

ecthlipsis,  3C 
elision,  33  f. ;  57 
emphasis,  iii ;  2  ;  62 

feet,  24  ;  44  f. ;  54  f . 

half-elision,  37 
hepthemimeral,  46 
hiatus,  36 ;  37  f . 

ictus,  44  ;  54  f . ;  62 
inter-verse  elision,  36 
inter-verse  hiatus,  49 


lengthening,  18;  25;  38,  §8;  41, 

§  14 ;  43,  §§  16  and  16 ;  59 
linking,  28  f . ;  arrested,  43 
liquids,  41 ;  43 

measure,  48 
meter,  8 
monosemic,  26 
mora,  24 
mutes,  41 

nasal  elision,  36 

pause,  10;  48;  59 
penthemimeral,  46 
poem,  3f.;  21;  46 

quantity,  22 ;  63  ;  archaic,  38  ; 
diminishing,  39 ;  unsettled,  39 

reading,  If.;  62  f . 

rests,  10;  24 

rhythm,  accentual,  9;  ascending, 
45 ;  auxiliary  factors,  10 ;  its 
complexity,  7  ;  descending,  45 ; 
and  ideas,  19 ;  instinctive,  4 ; 
17 ;  and  memory,  6 ;  and  meter, 
8  f . ;  in  music,  6  (footnote) ;  in 
prose,  21 ;  quantitative,  10 

rime,  13;  21 

8,  42 ;  43 

shortening,  18 ;  25 ;  33,  I 

silence,  10 

sound  parallelism,  13 

space  (metrical),  24 


66 


66 


INDEX 


stanzas,  50 

stichic,  60 

stops,  10 

strophes,  46;  50;  59 

syllable,  6 ;  22 ;  aiiceps,  49 ;  64  ; 
closed,  26 ;  64 ;  common,  41 ; 
long,  23 ;  30 ;  open,  25  ;  short, 
23;  30;  variable,  18;  32  f.;  63 

synapheia,  36 

syncope,  40 

synizesis,  37 


tetrasemic,  26 
thesis,  46 
time,  24 
trisemic,  26 
trithemimeral,  46 

verse,  47  f . ;  names,  48 ;  spondaic, 
64  f. 

vowel,  22 ;  coupling,  37 ;  harden- 
ing, 40 ;  omission,  40 

word  accent,  66 ;  62 


LIST   OF   IRREGULAR  YEESES 
in  Vergil's  ^Eneid,  i-vi,  which  are  discussed  in  the  foregoing  pages 


i,   2  page  39  ;  40      ii,  417  page  39 

iv,  667  page  38 

16  " 

38 

442  " 

40 

686  "  40 

26  " 

40 

492  " 

40 

30  " 

43 

663  " 

44 

v,  24  "  40 

41  " 

39 

709  " 

40 

261  "  37 

73  " 

40 

745  " 

37 

284  "  44 

120  " 

37 

774  " 

39 

337  "  44 

131  " 

37 

352  "  37 

195  " 

37 

iii,  1  " 

39 

422  "  37 

266  " 

37 

—  «-) 

48  " 

39 

432  "  40 

258  " 

40 

74  " 

38 

621  "  39 

308  " 

39 

91  " 

43 

689  "  40 

332  " 

37 

112  " 

44 

663  "  40 

343  " 

40 

136  " 

40 

697  "  40 

348  " 

40 

211  " 

37 

735  "  38 

405  " 

38 

346  " 

40 

763  "  37 

448  " 

37 

396  " 

39 

853  "  39 

456  " 

478  " 
489  " 
499  " 
557  " 
617  " 

34 
44 
39 
39 
40 
38 

464  " 
678  " 
602  " 
606  " 
681  ". 

43 
40 
37 
38 
39 

vi,  33  "  37 
254  "  44 
280  "  37 
412  "  37 
607  "  37 

651  " 

39 

614  (egerimus). 

668  " 

44 

iv,  64  " 

44 

See  Latin 

698  " 

37 

76  " 

40 

grammars  : 

726  " 

37 

126  " 

40 

A.&G.169, 

146  " 

42 

d,  n.;  H.  & 

ii,  16  " 

40 

168  " 

40 

B.  175,  b 

66  " 

40 

222  " 

44 

602  page  37 

131  " 

39 

236  " 

38 

678  "  37 

369  " 

39 

668  " 

37 

768  "  39 

411  " 

44 

629  " 

37 

846  "  30 

67 

ANNOUNCEMENTS 


VIRGIL 

REVISED  EDITION 

Edited  by  JAMES  B.  GREENOUGH,  late  Professor  of  Latin  in  Harvard  University, 
and  GEORGE  L.  KITTREDGE,  Professor  of  English  in  Harvard  Uni- 
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